


Treading on Disaster’s Heels

by kimunkur



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Minor Character Death, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24056038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimunkur/pseuds/kimunkur
Summary: “Ah—move!” Luffy leaps at them, pushing them out of the way as something lands on the ground behind him. It detonates, expelling a forceful wave of air that sends them sprawling to the ground.Zoro’s ears ring.World overturned.AOne PieceGang AU
Relationships: Koshiro & Roronoa Zoro, Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates & Roronoa Zoro
Comments: 16
Kudos: 87
Collections: One Piece Big Bang 2019/2020





	Treading on Disaster’s Heels

It’s not that the roof of the Italian restaurant is the most uncomfortable thing Zoro’s had to sit on, but it’s not the most comfortable either. But he can manage that—all he has to do is sit still and wait for the signal.

But.

Usopp has other plans, and won’t stop shifting his position, lying on the ground, kneeling against the ledge, or even squatting to keep his eye level with the sniper scope. “Nami, where are you?” he hisses.

“Calm down,” she berates. “I’m coming!”

“Come fas—” Usopp breaks off, swallowing his words with a nervous chuckle. “Oops.”

Zoro glances over to him, a grin on his lips.

“What was that?” Nami grounds out, a sinister lilt to her words.

“Nothing,” Usopp squeaks. He tries to glare at Zoro, but the intimidating effect is ruined by how frantic he looks.

And the fact that it’s Usopp.

“Thought so,” Nami asserts.

“I’m sorry.”

“Usopp.” Sanji’s voice filters onto the comms. “Are you—?”

“We’re not talking about this anymore. I’ve apologised—it’s over.”

“But—”

“Nope!” Usopp makes a move to stand up, despite the fact that Sanji isn’t anywhere in sight. “That was a dumb brain moment. Nami can come at her own pace.”

The silence is palpable, despite the traffic below and howling wind.

“Bro,” Franky finally pipes up, voice breezing over the mics. “You made it worse.”

“Usopp. I—” Nami breaks her facade to laugh. “What’s wrong with your brain today?”

Usopp whines, discarding his sniper to the ground. “Goodbye, everyone,” he sighs dramatically. “I’m gonna yeet myself off this building.” He steps closer to the ledge for good measure.

“I thought yeeting was only for empty things?” Franky muses.

“No, Franky—don’t,” Nami pleads.

Zoro snorts. “His skull’s empty.”

“Ah,” Franky says. “Yeet away.”

“Hey!” Usopp turns around to face Zoro.

Nami makes a sound halfway between a laugh and a cry. “Franky, please—I’m _begging_ you.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow as if to point out the conversation that’s just transpired between him and Nami.

“Okay, fair,” Usopp concedes.

“What’s wrong, Nami?” Franky asks, tone betraying that he clearly already knows what’s wrong. “Why can’t I say yeet?”

“Ah, stop!” Nami cries. “Please stop saying that.”

Franky huffs a breath. “Am I saying yeet wrong? How am I supposed to pronounce it?”

“No, it’s right,” Sanji tells him. “She just doesn’t like you saying it.”

“Why?”

“Don’t—!” Nami hisses. “Now he’s never gonna stop.”

Sanji apologises profusely.

“Why can’t I say it?” Franky presses. “Am I not dank enough?”

 _That_ startles a laugh from Zoro. Even Usopp leans forward, resting his forehead on the butt of the sniper.

“Where did you learn that?” Nami asks, apprehensive.

“From you guys.”

“Please stop.”

Franky sniffles. “I just wanted to vibe with you guys.”

“That’s…” Sanji sighs. “That’s not how you use that.” 

“No?”

“No,” Usopp and Nami answer.

“I could’ve sworn that’s how that went.”

Nami groans. “It’s not.”

“How do I use it then?”

“You don’t.”

“I just want to understand what you’re saying half the time.”

“You’re too old.”

“I’m a millennial too.”

“If you don’t understand it, you’re already too old.”

“What about Robin?” When there’s no response, Franky presses forward. “Robin, have you blown the door yet?”

“No.” Robin’s voice is crisp over the comms—which means she and Luffy have made it inside the casino’s staff room.

“Can you yell yeet when you do?”

Silence descends over the comms again, each person listening with bated breath.

“I will not,” Robin states.

“Ooh, shot down,” Usopp says sympathetically.

Robin chuckles. “Are you all in position?”

Everyone rallies off their confirmation.

“Fuses are in place—Luffy, this way.”

Zoro shifts lower to the ground, hiding himself behind the ledge of the roof.

“Three… two… one.” A muffled explosion crackles over the earpiece.

The alarm blares, sirens wailing out into the brisk night air. Cars passing by Crocodile Casino screech to a stop as the ground shakes beneath them. Pedestrians scream and swivel their heads before running away. Some even reach for their phones to call the police. The front doors of the casino open and customers flood out, pouring onto the streets in a panicked haste.

Next to him, Usopp adjusts the sniper against his shoulder and watches.

“See anything?” Zoro murmurs.

Usopp hums a negative, angling the barrel farther to the left.

“Cops are on their way to your location,” Franky relays.

“Good,” Robin says. “Let’s go, Captain.”

Luffy yells something indistinguishable, voice barely picking up on Robin’s mic.

“Turning comms off,” Sanji announces, before there are two distinct clicks through the earpiece.

Zoro peeks over the bricks, eyes honing in to the casino entrance. The wait is terrifying—he knows Luffy and Robin can handle themselves, and Usopp will call out if trouble arises.

But.

Until he sees them with his own eyes, his gut swirls and pinches with worry.

“Wait, what?”

Zoro flickers his gaze to Usopp who’s now peering over the other side of the street. “What?” he asks, gruff, because he really doesn’t like how confused Usopp sounds.

“Uh…” Usopp breathes, turning to look at Zoro before lining his eye with the scope again. “Is there supposed to be this many cop cars?”

Zoro’s mouth dries, stomach dropping.

“How many?” Robin inquires.

Usopp counts under his breath, and it goes on longer than Zoro would’ve hoped for. “Nine.”

“That…” Nami trails off. “That’s good, right?” Despite the question, concern bleeds over her words. “It’s what you’re meant to do—distract the police?”

“Yeah—but.” Usopp swallows, following the vehicles as they stop out the front of the casino. “It’s too much.”

“They must know it’s us.”

“How?”

“Don’t worry about how,” Zoro says, even though he’d very much like to know. “Just get out first.”

“Roger that,” Robin affirms.

“They’re swarming the car.” Usopp’s voice rises with alarm.

Zoro leans forward to catch the corner of the casino; policemen are lining the sidewalks, covering every entrance and exit.

Robin and Luffy’s getaway car is parked in the middle of the mess.

“Get another car,” Nami suggests.

“Wait.” Usopp pivots the sniper. “I think I can distract them.” He stares down the barrel, following something down the street before he lets out a stuttered breath. “What the fuck?”

“What?” Zoro is getting tired of playing this waiting game.

“It’s Jinbe.” Usopp looks up when no one responds, worry evident in the way he gnaws at his bottom lip. “Why’s he here?”

Zoro doesn’t have an answer for that, throat stuck with a lump he can’t swallow past. He scans the growing crowd, attempting to find their cop.

“They shouldn’t know,” Nami tries to assert, but her voice is far too shaky. “They can’t.”

Usopp groans. “Why didn’t Franky tell us?”

“It’s possible,” Robin cuts in, voice calm, “that Franky didn’t know. And that Jinbe wasn’t aware he was posted to this mission until too late, therefore not able to to tell Franky.”

The logical words settle over them. It works, to an extent—Zoro would prefer if he could get confirmation from the source itself, but Robin is intelligent, and the tranquility of her voice alleviates the twisting in his belly. “What’s your plan?” he asks.

It takes Usopp a few seconds to realise he’s the one being addressed. “Just to distract the cops.” He flickers his gaze to Zoro. “Shoot somewhere and make sure they focus on it—take the heat off Robin and Luffy when they… uh, escape.”

“Good plan.”

Usopp nods before turning back to the sniper. He’s quiet, lining up a shot. But then he backs away. “I need to switch spots,” he says, already picking up the weapon and stand.

Zoro moves, settling back against the ledge. He sinks down onto the roof, making sure his head doesn’t peek over.

Usopp watches.

And waits.

Then shoots.

It’s immediate. Screams travel up to their roof as civilians move out of the way, crashing into one another. Policemen draw their weapons and herd people out of the open.

Usopp fires another shot. “Coast is clear.”

“Thank you,” Robin chirrups.

Zoro squashes the urge to turn around and look down at the streets. He doesn’t need to see—he’s got a live feed to Robin, who can tell them if she needs help.

And there isn’t much he can do anyway—he’s only here to drive Usopp.

He knows this.

Has gone over the plan time and time again.

But knowing all this doesn’t help the concern that threatens to permeate every cell in his body. He won’t be able to rest until he’s back at the apartment with everyone there and he can see them himself.

Until then.

He sits and waits, and focuses on doing his part of the plan.

“There’s not a lot of room to drive,” Robin mutters into the earpiece.

“Just don’t run anyone over,” Usopp says.

Robin only chuckles.

Over the speakers, the car roars to life and the doors shut. Below them, tyres squeal on the asphalt, met with clamouring as people dive out of the way of the car.

Robin bids them a curt, “See you guys at the rendezvous point.”

Usopp trains his sniper to the streets, shooting out tyres of the police vehicles and keeping everyone off Robin and Luffy’s trail.

It works.

But now.

“They know where we are!” Usopp ducks down as a bullet ricochets off the ledge. “We need to move.”

Zoro stays low as he moves to the ladder and slides down until his feet meet concrete. He hops onto the motorbike and waits. He catches the sniper case that Usopp drops down for him, helmet in one hand as Usopp descends the ladder. “You’d think you’d be faster,” Zoro mutters.

“We can’t all be action heroes and slide down the ladder,” Usopp shoots back. But he jumps the last couple of rungs.

Zoro hands him the helmet and the rifle case. He makes sure his own helmet is secure before he kicks the stand back and lines the bike up with the exit.

Usopp gets on, jamming the case between himself and Zoro.

Zoro hates it—it’s hard and jabs into his back, but he ignores it and slides forward on the seat instead. “Hold on.”

And that’s all the warning he gives Usopp before he floors it.

Usopp cries out at the sudden burst of speed, hands clamouring at Zoro’s waist before he successfully manages to secure his arms around Zoro’s body. “Are you trying to kill me?” he yelps.

“Thought you liked going fast,” Zoro muses back. He swerves around a car, who blares their horn at them.

“Nope,” Nami giggles. “Just coming fast.”

Usopp groans. “Kill me now.”

Zoro grins and takes a turn, hoping the sudden path gives them enough time to ditch the bike. There’s movement behind him as Usopp cranes his neck to look over his shoulder.

“I don’t mean to rush you,” Usopp starts.

Zoro spares a glance to the side mirrors where police cars are chasing after them, close on their tails. “So… faster?”

“Oh, shit.” Usopp tightens his hold around Zoro. “Next time, I’m not doing bikes.”

They tear down the street, bypassing cars and pedestrians who are too shocked to curse at them as they scrape past. The cityscape becomes a blur of colour.

Zoro brakes under a bridge, squealing to a halt next to the car that waits for them, wheels screeching on the road, burnt rubber assaulting their noses.

Usopp clambers off, legs shaking as he clutches the sniper case as though it’s a lifeline. “That was the worst.”

“We got away.” Zoro catches the helmet that Usopp throws at him, hanging it onto the handlebar before leaving his one there too. He rounds the car to the trunk and takes out a mine, placing it on the seat of the motorbike and setting the charge for one minute.

“I almost died three times on that trip!”

“You’re being dramatic.” Zoro closes the trunk and slides into the back. “Captain. Robin.”

“Zoro!” Luffy cranes his head around from the passenger seat and smiles. “The way you braked was so cool!” he gushes.

Zoro can’t help the smile that crosses his face, even if Usopp mutters _‘s_ _how-off’_ under his breath. “How fast can you drive?” he asks Robin.

“Oh?”

“We have less than thirty seconds before that bike blows up.”

“What the Hell?” Usopp yells. “You’re a madman.”

Luffy laughs. “Go, Robin!”

“Aye, Captain.”

*** * ***

The wait isn’t as excruciating now that he’s back in the confines of the penthouse. Brook has made them tea and Luffy is still giddy from the heist, bouncing between the living room and kitchen.

Usopp has taken to retelling Chopper how the heist went, exaggerating details if the shock and surprise on Chopper’s face is anything to go by.

“Did Jinbe tell you anything?” Robin asks, taking the saucer and lifting the cup to her lips.

Brook shakes his head, hair bouncing with the movement. “You know he only talks to Franky.”

Robin purses her lips.

“We should change that,” Zoro says. “Give him everyone’s number.”

Despite Robin’s previous concern, she smiles. “We can’t take a risk like that.”

Zoro takes the cup, but he doesn’t drink, too preoccupied. “Jinbe shouldn’t be on active duty.”

Brook looks at him and it unnerves Zoro that he can’t really tell what’s going on behind his eyes. Robin too, for that matter. “There doesn’t have to be a sinister reason. Maybe Jinbe’s been passing all his tests.”

“Zoro!”

Zoro places the cup onto the table just as Luffy jumps onto his back. He shifts further onto the stool so the added weight doesn’t topple him over. “Captain.”

“Why’s Zoro frowning?” Luffy pokes his cheek for good measure.

“’Cos you’re heavy.”

Luffy laughs. “Do you think everyone else is weak?”

Zoro can already see where this conversation is going, but he lets Luffy steer it anyway. “No.”

“So, Nami and Franky and Sanji can take care of each other? And Jinbe is really smart.”

“Yeah.”

Luffy grins, climbing off Zoro’s back. “Then stop worrying!”

Zoro already knows this.

But hearing it laid out simply like that, with Luffy’s nonchalant and easygoing tone provides him some comfort.

Luffy bounds into the living room. “Usopp’s telling us how you tried to kill him.”

Zoro rolls his eyes, following his captain.

“Zoro!” Chopper rises from the couch. “You tried to use Usopp as a shield?”

“No. Kinda wish I did though.”

“Hey!” Usopp throws a cushion at Zoro but he tosses it back. “Why’re you so violent?”

“Because you keep making me out to be.” He turns to Chopper. “How many times have I tried to kill him in this story?”

Chopper chuckles. “Seven?”

“So…” Zoro faces Usopp again. “Seven stabs makes it even?”

“No!” Usopp climbs over the back of the couch faster than Zoro thought possible. “Stop joking like that!”

Zoro frowns. “I wasn’t joking.”

Luffy laughs, eyes scrunched together.

The _ding_ of the elevator directs their attention. The door opens, revealing the three remaining members of the heist, hoisting black duffle bags from their arms. As they enter the penthouse, the tightness in Zoro’s chest lightens.

Luffy rises, squeezing Zoro’s shoulder before he races off towards them. “You’re back! How much money is there?”

“I haven’t counted it yet,” Nami says. “But.” She smiles deviously.

“We’re super rich,” Franky crows, hands in the air as he hefts his haul.

“Cool!” Luffy dances over to Sanji. “When can we eat? I’m hungry!”

“Let me clean up first.” He pushes Luffy’s face away from him before setting his two duffle bags on the floor by the couch. “Stay out of the kitch—” Sanji sighs, turning his attention to Zoro and Usopp. “Can you keep him out of the kitchen?”

Usopp salutes him. “Yes, Sir.”

Sanji rolls his eyes, but smiles. “Piss off.”

*** * ***

The spoils of their previous heist has left them feeling invincible.

So they do what they usually do when such a feeling elates them.

They plan more heists.

After the success of a distraction to pull the police away from the real heist, Luffy thinks they should do more.

“We can’t hit another bank now. They’ll all be on high alert,” Nami warns.

“I mean, we can.” Usopp shrugs.

“Do you _want_ to end up in jail?”

“Oh, relax—it worked so well last night!”

“Because we haven’t done it before. And now, they know. So they’ll be on the lookout for that.”

“I agree with Nami,” Robin says.

“Me too!” Sanji chimes in.

Franky and Brook, the more mature adults, side with Robin. Chopper does too, mostly because everyone else has as well. Usopp reluctantly changes his view.

Luffy’s looking at Zoro with expectant eyes, and he can’t quite bring himself to contradict his captain. “I’m with you, Luffy.”

Luffy lights up, bouncing in his seat.

“Suck-up,” Usopp mutters.

Zoro raises an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“Nothing!” Usopp beelines out of the conference room, knowing the meeting is over.

“You should stop scaring him,” Robin chastises. “It’s not good for his heart.”

“He should stop being scared.”

“He can’t help his fears, Zoro.”

“And I can’t help if I’m fearsome.”

Sanji snorts, laughing loudly. “You’re about as fearsome as a fish.”

Nami shrugs. “Some fish are scary. And ugly,” she adds upon realising she had given Zoro a compliment.

“I’ll protect you from this ugly fish, Nami!”

“Thanks, Sanji.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill the both of you,” Zoro threatens.

“Try it, Dumb Fish.”

“Oh!” Luffy jumps up before Zoro can do so. “Can we have sushi for dinner?”

“Uh… sure. I don’t think we have any fish at home.”

“Let’s go shopping, then!”

“All of us?”

“Yeah!”

And that’s how they end up in the middle of a shoot out.

The other gang—Zoro’s not really sure who they belong to—are persistent. They may not be smart.

Or strong.

But they make up for it in numbers.

“I’m almost out of bullets,” Usopp says. He crouches behind the car and reloads his pistol, glancing at Zoro. “I can’t shoot them all.”

Zoro knows he should’ve come prepared. He’s in a gang—there’s no reason for him to be unarmed.

And, yet.

Here he is.

Weaponless.

Swords back at the penthouse.

Useless.

Once again.

Except, last time, he at least had a motorbike he could drive. This time—

“You can hotwire a car, right?”

Usopp shoots twice. “Yeah, why?”

“I have a plan.”

Usopp groans, lips pursed.

Zoro’s plans usually end in a mess.

A mess could be what they need right now.

“Fine.”

Zoro reaches over and clears the window of the remaining glass shards, having already been shot out during the debacle. “All right, get in.”

“You’re not even gonna let me use a door?”

“Do I look like I know how to unlock the door?”

They wince as another spray of bullets hit the car.

“Alright, I’m going!” Usopp gives Zoro the pistol and heaves himself through the window.

Zoro isn’t a great shot—swords and knives are his specialty. But, all he needs to do is distract them so Usopp doesn’t get shot. He peeks over the trunk and fires at an enemy. The others are quick to train their weapons in his direction, and Zoro ducks back down before their bullets reach him.

On the other side of the street, Sanji is yelling at him. He can’t really make out what he’s saying though. But near Sanji is a large piece of brick that came off the building behind him, and Zoro could use that.

And so ensues a conversation consisting of mimes, pointing, yelling and threats.

“The brick, you idiot!”

Sanji doesn’t seem to hear him.

Zoro can’t blame him; the bullets haven’t let up and they’re quite far from each other. But if he has to yell _‘the brick’_ one more time, he might just shoot Sanji for the fun of it.

The car roars to life, steel frame vibrating along his back. There’s also no doubt they’ve drawn everyone’s attention.

It’s Franky who lobs the slab over to him; crashing onto the ground, debris cracking off and dusting the concrete. Thankfully, it’s still hefty enough for what he needs. He brings it over to the door.

Which opens, almost hitting him. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Usopp sputters. “I didn’t know you were there! What the Hell—”

“Get out.” He doesn’t give Usopp enough time to obey, dragging him out the car.

Usopp lands on his back, rolling his head as he catches sight of the brick. _“That’s_ your plan?”

“You got a better one?”

Usopp huffs. “Fine, give me the gun.”

Zoro does as told before placing the brick onto the floor of the car and reaching over the console to shift gears.

“Hey, wait.” Usopp taps his leg and Zoro turns around. He has a lighter and bag in one. “Use this.”

“What?”

“Put the brick in here.” He shakes the bag to enunciate his point. “Then light it up.”

Zoro grins.

“You’re way too excited about this.”

“They shouldn’t have attacked us.”

“True. But still.”

Zoro takes the bag and wraps the brick with it. He presses the lighter against the fabric and flicks it on. It catches on fire, spreading. Zoro pushes the brick onto the gas pedal.

Usopp pulls on the back of his shirt as the car starts to roll down the incline. “C’mon!”

Zoro barely gets to his feet before he starts moving, running towards Franky and Sanji who cover them.

“What the fuck?” Sanji hisses as they dive for the building.

“Where’s everyone else?” Zoro grunts. He throws the lighter back to Usopp, who passes it to Sanji.

“Brook, Robin, Nami and Chopper are together,” Franky says. “Last I saw, they were back that way.” He jerks his thumb towards the mall.

“Luffy?”

“I don’t know.”

Zoro narrows his eyes, sitting up. “What?”

“I lost sight of him as soon as this whole thing started.”

He’s fine.

Luffy’s fine.

He can take care of himself.

“Why didn’t it go off?” Usopp muses, peering around the corner of the building.

Zoro waves his hand to dismiss the question. “I don’t know—it’s your plan.”

“What?” Usopp turns to him. “This was your plan.”

“The blowing up thing was your plan.”

“So, what? You were just going to let the car roll down the road and distract them?”

“Yeah. What else would the plan be?”

Usopp groans. “We could’ve—”

The explosion rocks the earth. Sanji yanks Usopp further behind the building as the black sky is tinged with orange flames and smoke. Down the street, their enemies scream.

The bullets finally stop.

Franky whistles. “Super plan.”

Sanji rights Usopp before growling, “Let’s go.”

*** * ***

Nami is yelling at them to stop when they come running to her location. She’s frantic, waving her arms, voice strained. Chopper and Brook have joined her too, while Robin is unnerved, but still composed.

Franky skids to a halt, arms out to stop the others from proceeding any further. “What’s wrong?” he calls across.

Zoro scans the floor; there’s a pile of bodies in a shallow puddle. Wiring extends from the puddle and leads towards where Nami and the others are. If he had to guess, there’s probably a breaker somewhere, and Nami had just electrocuted a bunch of men.

“Don’t step into the water,” Nami yells back at them.

“Damn.”

“We need to get out of here,” Franky says, waving them over. “Have you seen Luffy?”

They shake their heads.

Zoro has to tell himself to stop thinking about where their captain could be.

They help the other team over the bodies, careful not to touch the puddle. It’s mostly Franky who lifts them over, gently placing them down as far from the water he can reach.

They head downstairs, trying their best to ignore the civilians who stare at them as they pass.

“I think someone’s calling the cops,” Usopp whispers to the group.

“We need to leave,” Sanji grouses.

And Zoro knows they should.

But.

“We need to find Luffy.”

Sanji turns, ready to argue further but Franky is quick to jump in.

“We still have time before the cops arrive.” He lays a hand on Sanji’s shoulder. “We’ll use that time to look for Luffy. But once they get here, we need to leave.”

It’s a good compromise, but Zoro would rather they keep searching until they find Luffy.

“Zoro?” Franky presses.

He sighs. “Yeah.”

They split up, working in teams of two, despite Zoro’s persistence that they’d cover more ground if everyone worked alone.

But no one wants to separate and spread themselves that thin—it isn’t safe for them to be alone when another gang is looking for them.

Franky and Zoro head out into the parking lot, keeping their heads down and trying to blend in as much as two men with blue and green hair are able to.

They find Luffy.

Or rather, Luffy comes flying into their path.

He’s roughed up; clothes torn, skin singed and hair tousled, but otherwise looks okay. He rises to his feet, wiping at the blood on his cheek. “Ah—move!” And he leaps at them, pushing them out of the way as something lands on the ground behind him.

It detonates, expelling a forceful wave of air that sends them sprawling to the ground.

Zoro’s ears ring.

World overturned.

He feels like he’s been beaten with a truck; organs caved, breathing difficult. Someone’s patting his arm and he turns when they start pulling at him, trying to get him to his feet.

Everything’s blurry; all he can see is shapes and colourful blobs that move slowly.

He tries to roll onto his stomach to push himself up, but his arms don’t cooperate with him.

Nothing wants to work.

There’s a muddled shouting, lost beneath a cloud that buries all other sounds beneath it.

Franky is the first to recover; he’s hovering over Zoro, yelling and trying to get him up.

Zoro lets himself be pulled into a sitting position. His head throbs, and he coughs out something wet, which elicits a curse from the older man.

“Chopper!” Franky shouts over his shoulder.

It’s only then does Zoro realise that the parking lot is a mess; the cars around them have been flung outwards, the ground cracked and lined with debris.

Chopper rushes towards them, the other Strawhats close.

But Luffy isn’t with them.

“What happened?” he grunts out between the smallest puffs of air.

“Concussion grenade,” Franky answers, gritting his teeth. “Luffy was gone when I came to.”

Zoro tries to stand, but Franky and Chopper wrestle him back down to the floor. “We need to move,” Zoro grounds out. “Get Luffy back.”

“We can’t stay around any longer,” Chopper says, eyes shining with tears. “The cops are on their way. Jinbe can only hold them off for so long.”

“We can’t leave Luffy.”

“We don’t even know where he is! We don’t know anything about who took him.”

Zoro doesn’t have time to decipher what that means before Franky pulls Zoro to his feet and he has to focus on not puking his insides out.

“We have to go home,” Franky is saying. “Wait out the cops.”

Zoro is unbalanced, leaning heavily against Franky’s side as he tries to walk with him. His side hurts with every step he takes.

Chopper picks up the straw hat on the ground and tucks it under his arm before hovering on Zoro’s other side, worry etched on his face.

He hates this; knows that he needs to go back to the penthouse, but he’d rather stay out here and look for Luffy.

He just doesn’t know if he can physically do that.

*** * ***

He lets himself be bedridden for all of two hours before he decides that that’s enough rest and he needs to move.

Needs to go back to the mall and try to figure out where Luffy was taken. He doesn’t know if there are any clues—he’s not like Franky and Usopp who can pick out tyre tracks and identify which cars they belong to. Nor is he like Robin, who can read people and predict where they’ll go with terrifying accuracy.

But he has to do _something._

So he hobbles back to the mall’s parking lot, bypassing the police tape to find the small crater where the concussion grenade had gone off.

The search doesn’t unveil any clues. He walks around the lot, eyes glued to the ground, but nothing jumps out at him.

And he’s pretty sure the anaesthetics Chopper had given him are wearing off, so he’ll be feeling the effects worse now if he doesn’t head back.

So he leaves, taking a turn into a dark alley, but is met with another figure in front of him.

He’s got half a mind to stumble back before he realises his reflexes hadn’t flared. Which means—

“Koushirou?”

It’s hard to tell given the dim lighting, but Zoro knows in the way the man holds himself, dark hair slicked back in a low ponytail, glasses perched across his face.

He smiles, kindly and so familiar that Zoro can’t help but mirror the expression. “What are you doing here?”

Koushirou’s smile is strained, shaking on his face until he drops it. “I thought I’d find you here,” he says instead of answering Zoro. “I saw the news.”

“Yeah.” He always feels wrong, not giving Koushirou a way to communicate with him. But he knows it’s not safe. Knows it’s better this way.

Koushirou sighs, arms crossed over his chest as he stares into Zoro’s eyes.

Zoro never could read the emotions toiling in them, but today seems harder. Or maybe it’s just his disorientation and medication taking a toll on his observation.

“I—I don’t know how to tell you this, Zoro.” His voice is soft, calm tones betraying the way he shakes over his words. “I thought that maybe by not telling you sooner, I was saving you, but—” he scoffs. “I was saving myself.”

The thumping in the back of his head seems to grow louder. “What do you mean?”

“Kuina passed away.”

The silence in the alley is suffocating. There’s pressure on his lungs, trapping his airways. His heart beats too loud—he can hear it bouncing on the brick walls surrounding them before it escapes into the dark sky. “What?”

“The funeral’s tomorrow, at two o’clock.”

Zoro’s stuck in a weird limbo where he wishes everything’s a joke—a damned prank or a stupid dream where he’ll wake up and none of today was real.

But he knows.

Knows that not even his subconscious could even humour this topic, wouldn’t even think to drag Koushirou here because it’s been too long since he’s last seen him—had almost forgotten what he looked like.

“Zoro.” The calm voice brings him back, anchors him to the concrete under his shoes.

“Tomorrow, two o’clock.” Zoro repeats, because he doesn’t know what else he should say. “Okay. I’ll—uh, see you.” He turns and leaves, letting his feet walk where they please.

He stops outside a pub; a small wooden structure that Zoro hadn’t set foot in since he’d met Luffy and been whisked away on an adventure of riches and crime.

It’s rowdy, music thumping through the walls and people yelling to be heard. Some are dancing haphazardly throughout the room, while others are seated in the booths.

Zoro strides up to the bar and orders a drink. He downs it quickly, and orders another.

And another.

And another.

Eventually, he’s lost count and the bartender tells him he needs to cut him off, ignoring Zoro’s protestations that his tolerance is much higher than average.

So, Zoro goes back to the penthouse; if he can’t drink at the bar, he’ll drink at home instead.

The lights are off when the elevator doors open, and he leaves it like that, knowing that if he turns on the light, he’d only be inviting someone to come out and join him—and he’d rather be alone.

He pours himself a drink.

*** * ***

He wakes up to yelling. Loud—laced with anger that pounds into his head with each intonation. It takes him too long to realise that the shouting is directed at him.

“What if Chopper woke up early today?” 

Zoroʼs groan vibrates onto the counter and he tries to dig his head into the plastic laminate. “Go ’way.”

The chair he’s on shakes and the feeling of falling overwhelms him enough to wake him up. He darts his hands out to catch himself. Pain slices through his palm. “The Hell’s your problem?” he hisses through gritted teeth.

“You!” The Cook glowers at him, eyes dark as he stares down at Zoro on the ground, who only blinks blearily at him. “There’s broken glass all over the floor! Chopper could’ve cut himself. Or the girls!”

Zoro picks at the glass in his skin, barely grimacing as he does so. He drops them onto the small pile already there. And because he’s in a mood, he adds more fuel to Sanji’s fire. “It’s not all over the floor. Relax.” 

Sanji narrows his eyes, mouth opening to retaliate.

And yeah, that’s definitely a mistake on his part, but there’s no way he’s apologising to the damn Cook. He can, though, try to fix his mess. “And no one would’ve gotten hurt by the glass.”

Sanji scoffs. “You did.” He rounds the counter to the cupboards, opening it and throwing something on the counter.

It lands with a hollow thud.

Zoro stands, eyes coming to rest on the first aid kit on the table. He blinks, focus flickering to Sanji who blatantly ignores him and moves on to make coffee. “Only ’cos you kicked my chair.” He sits down onto a stool and slides the kit over to himself. “Dumbass,” he adds as an afterthought.

“You missed the meeting last night.” Accusatory. With questions hidden beneath the words.

“’S none of your business.”

“Bullshit,” Sanji hisses, rounding on him. “We’re on a team. Doesn’t matter if we like it or not—we need to have each other’s backs.”

Zoro keeps his attention on bandaging his hands. “Just ’cos you didn’t know where I was, doesn’t mean I didn’t tell an—”

“No one knew where you were!” Sanji gestures towards the bedrooms to enunciate his point. “You could’ve been dead in a ditch for all we knew.”

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Lump me in with your replacement family.”

Silence.

His words echo, bouncing around the kitchen walls and landing with a shatter at Sanji’s feet.

Sanji, to his credit, doesn’t react. He makes his drink as quickly as he can. He doesn’t add sugar in it like he always does. Instead, he takes his cup of bitter coffee and heads into his room.

When his footsteps disappear, Zoro slides off the chair and starts cleaning up his mess. The glass shards, droplets of his blood and spilled alcohol. When he’s done, he locks himself in his room.

His alarm wakes him up eight hours later.

It hits him all at once.

Seeing Koushirou.

Kuina.

It leaves a bitter taste in the back of his throat that makes it difficult to breathe.

He rolls out of bed and trudges to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower. He retreats back into his room to change into a black suit and white dress shirt. His tie, which hadn’t been undone since the last time he’d worn it, has seen better days. But he doesn’t know how to tie it, so he drapes it around his neck and pulls until it sits right under the button.

Zoro stays in his bedroom, straining his ears to listen outside the walls of his room, trying to pick up on any sounds.

It’s quiet.

So he opens the door and heads out.

The living room is empty, save for Nami and Usopp. They stop their chatter when Zoro enters.

Nami raises her brows. “Hot date, or something?” It’s casual. He can’t tell if she’s faking it or if she really just doesn’t care about… everything that’s been going on.

“Or something,” he parrots in the same tone.

Usopp chuckles. “Ooh, mysterious.” He tries to sound nonchalant, but Zoro can tell in the way he’s tracking Zoro into the kitchen that he’s curious.

So, Zoro plays it up. “Guess youʼll never know.”

Nami giggles and throws him a glance that looks as though she sees right through him. But Zoro knows that look is full of shit and Nami is actually just as clueless.

“You know where he’s going, don’t you?” Usopp gasps, turning to Nami.

She smirks. “Maybe.”

Usopp bounds over to the side of the couch she’s on. “Tell me!” 

“Why should I?” She pushes at his forehead with a finger.

“Please?” he whines.

Zoro shakes his head, a small grin pulling at his lips. “Tell the Cook I’m not eating at home,” he says.

“Again?” Nami turns so she’s now looking at him over the back of the couch. She’s worried for a split second before she glances at Usopp out of the corner of her eye and smiles. “Must be some date.”

“Who is it?” Usopp begs. He’s shaking her arm now.

“I can tell you,” Nami offers.

Usopp’s eyes practically light up and he straightens his back. “Really?”

She nods. “But, you’ll owe me.”

He deflates, backing away. “You know what? I can deal with not knowing. Anything’s better than being in debt to you.”

Zoro snorts. “Smartest decision you’ve made all day.”

“Excuse me?” Usopp slaps at Nami, who’s cackling. “You’ve been skulking in your room all day! How do you know what decisions I’ve been making?”

It’s like a switch is turned on at his words; he’d been blissfully forgetting why he was dressed up, where he needed to go. Just watching Nami and Usopp bicker put him at ease—it had all just slipped away.

But now.

“I’m gonna go.” He hurries into the kitchen to grab his keys.

“Hey, I was—” But Usopp’s words are cut off when the elevator announces it’s arrival.

The doors open and Robin blinks at him. “Good afternoon.” She smiles, getting out.

“Hey. Where’d you come back from?”

“Business.” She maintains her smile, tone ever-elusive and mysterious.

“Fair enough.” He sidesteps her to enter, but she reaches out to stop him.

She doesn’t say anything, only stretches out to lift his collar and take the tie from him. She starts to fix it. “Where are you going?”

“Business.”

“Fair enough.” Her smile widens, eyes crinkling as she places the tie back. “There you go.”

“Thanks.”

Robin doesn’t move. She just looks at him, right in his eyes. It’s unnerving and terrifying because it feels like she _knows_ —not like he’s trying to hide anything.

But—

_Still._

She squeezes his arms, eyes softening. “You’re not alone, Zoro.” And she walks off into the living room.

And if he feels slightly better after that, no one has to know.

*** * ***

He can’t even be close to the gravestone. Can’t even stand with Koushirou as the man lowers his daughter into her final resting place. Can’t even see her one last time before they close the coffin and cover her up.

He hides in the shadows of the trees and watches from afar because if he gets any closer, he’ll be recognised.

Speaking of.

He slips through the foliage and walks a few paces, circling around until he sees the back of the curly-haired man frantically looking for him.

“You know, it’s rude to lurk.”

Usopp shrieks, jumping into the air as he turns. “What the Hell?”

“Why are you following me?”

“No, I wasn’t—I was just— _you’re_ lurking,” he finally manages to say.

Zoro raises a brow. “Because I’m a wanted criminal.”

Usopp swallows, glancing over to the gathering. “I’m sorry.” His voice is small. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just—I thought you were—”

“I know.” Zoro turns back to watch as they finish up the ceremony. “You know Nami’s playing you, right?”

“What?”

Zoro smirks. “She doesn’t know anything. She’s just riling you up.”

“What? Why?” He sounds offended.

Zoro can’t help but smile as he shrugs. “It’s fun.”

“Devils,” Usopp hisses. “The both of you. Satan’s spawns.”

“You really want to invoke his name in the cemetery?”

Usopp squeaks. “Stop!”

“Hey, you’re the one who said—”

“Just—stop!”

“Zoro.”

His heart freezes. The easy smile falls off his face. He turns to face the man that raised him. “Koushirou.”

“You made it.”

Zoro nods. “Yeah, well.” He looks over Koushirou’s shoulder; everyone else has filed out. “It’s Kuina.”

Koushirou smiles that kindly smile.

Zoro hates that he can’t tell whether it’s fake or not.

“How are you?”

Zoro shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, nails digging into the bandage on his palm. “Everything’s—” He sees Usopp shifting nervously from the corner of his eyes. “Alright.”

Koushirou follows his gaze. “Hello.” He steps closer to Usopp. “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t see you there. What’s your name?”

Usopp laughs nervously, glancing at Zoro, who nods. “I’m Usopp.” He holds out a hand and Koushirou shakes it.

“Ah. You must be the people that poached Zoro from me.”

“Koushirou.”

“What?” Usopp jerks his hand away. “I don’t know what—”

“He’s joking. Satan, you know?”

Usopp chokes on his breath, caught between a gasp and laugh.

Koushirou reaches out to place a hand on Zoro’s arm. “I’ll see you at home.”

Zoro nods. “Hey,” he calls out when Koushirou starts to walk away.

Koushirou turns, smiling. “I know.” And he leaves for his car.

“C’mon.” Zoro heads towards the gravestone.

“Uh… I don’t think I should be here,” Usopp whispers.

“Lurking’s rude,” Zoro says. In all honesty, he likes that Usopp’s here. Maybe it’s something to do with not being alone. Maybe it’s just Usopp in general.

Either way.

“It’s fine,” he adds when he can still feel Usopp’s anxiety permeate the air around them.

Usopp only nods softly and trails behind him, keeping his distance but not straying too far, lest he be seen as lurking.

Zoro stands in front of the grave. There’s a picture of Kuina on the stone, colours still vibrant. It stands out amongst the surroundings of the other grey stones and faded pictures of past people who have been here for too long.

He doesn’t know what to say. He shifts on his feet, hands clenching in his pockets, throat tight as he stares down at the girl who was taken away too soon.

“Uh,” Usopp’s voice rings out in the silence. It’s unsure, but when Zoro doesn’t say anything, he clears his throat. “I—uh. I don’t know you, and I’m not sure you know who I am, if the Zoro you know is anything like the one we do.” He chuckles quietly. “But, um.” He swallows. “We got him; he’s one of us now, so we’ll look after him. So you can—y’know, rest easy.”

Zoro’s chest tightens. He swallows through the lump in his throat, blinking rapidly to stave the burn behind his eyes. “Right,” he says, throat scratching at the words as they escape his mouth. “So go to sleep, you brat.”

*** * ***

Dinner with Koushirou is awkward.

Stilted.

He tries desperately to not make it so; tells himself to relax and open up a bit more—this is the man who raised him, for God’s sake.

But.

His words come out clipped, movements stiff.

He doesn’t belong.

He should belong.

This is his home.

Ten years spent living under this roof in an environment that the man had always tried to make welcoming.

 _Did_ make welcoming.

“Your friend didn’t want to join us tonight?”

Zoro shakes his head, placing down his sake cup. He’d been fiddling with it, turning the ceramic and letting the last few droplets run around the rim. “He thought I should hang out with you—alone.”

Koushirou smiles. “I would have liked to know him a little more.”

“You will. Someday,” Zoro says. “All of them.”

The smile on Koushirou’s face deepens, and Zoro counts that as a win.

Maybe it’s because of everything that’s happened with the Cook and his birth family. Or maybe it’s because Kuina’s gone and he thinks Koushirou needs it to hear it. Or maybe he just wants to say it.

Regardless. 

Koushirou is dropping him off outside the apartment building (Zoro had insisted that it wasn’t necessary, but Koushirou said something about not letting Zoro wander the streets at two in the morning. Nevermind that Zoro tried to tell him he wouldn’t get lost—he knows where he lives) and Zoro pauses before he gets out. He’d been stewing on the word since he’d left the graveyard, played it around in his mouth. Let it sit under his tongue and whirl around. He opens his mouth, throat dry. He wets his lips and swallows to try again. “Dad?” He glances over to the driver’s seat.

If the man is shocked, he doesn’t show it. He only smiles, teeth flashing and eyes crinkling at the edges. “Yes?”

“Uh… Thanks.” For driving him despite the early hour. For being so kind. For raising him. For everything.

“Of course, son.”

*** * ***

The damn Cook is in a mood.

He keeps complaining that Zoro got in late last night, and—

How would he know?

Robin had been the only one awake, sitting at the kitchen counter with a cup of tea. She had smiled at Zoro when he clambered through the door and that had been that.

Why can’t everyone be as easy going as her?

Now, the blond shoots him side glares and pretends he doesn’t see him when they’re in the same room together.

Which—

If Zoro is being completely honest.

Doesn’t bother him at all.

Except.

Maybe it kind of does.

He supposes it’s a bit like a mildly irritating rat; you get so used to it annoying you, that when it’s gone, you start to miss it.

A little.

Sanji doesn’t even make snide remarks or mutter insults just loud enough that Zoro would be able to hear and start fights.

The atmosphere isn’t awkward or tense.

It’s frosty.

Like Zoro’s done something terribly wrong, but—

Oh.

Maybe he went a bit too far when he last talked to Sanji. The blond was only trying to look after him and Zoro had shut him down.

_I’m not your family._

So, yeah.

He maybe—probably—definitely went too far.

But.

How does he start to apologise?

“Can I talk to you?”

Sanji freezes, plate poised in the air before he lets it rest on the table and he straightens back up. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at Zoro. But he stays in the kitchen, busying himself by tending to the stove.

That’s something.

Right?

Zoro doesn’t say anything else for another two minutes. His brain stutters, his throat dries, tongue sitting heavy in the bottom of his mouth.

Sanji sighs, quiet; almost missable as he switches off the kitchen fan and begins to walk out.

“I’m sorry.”

The footsteps pause.

Zoro resolutely keeps his gaze ahead, staring at the empty spot in front of the stove. “What I said before—the family thing, was shit. I was—I wanted to…” He swallows back the words because he doesn’t need to unburden all his crap onto Sanji. “I was a dick. I didn’t mean it.”

It’s silent; words bouncing off the tiles.

The footsteps pick up again and fade into the living room. Usopp’s voice rings out when Sanji enters. The Cook murmurs something back to him and is met with uproarious laughter from the others.

At least he was polite enough to stay and listen.

Zoro retreats to his room for the remainder of the day; too socially exhausted. He debates whether he should skip his meals, but knows Sanji will no doubt break down his door in a fit of rage, regardless of their standing with each other. So he saves the Cook the hassle and heads down to the kitchen.

It’s…

Tense.

Everyone feels the rigidity between Sanji and Zoro, but no one comments on it.

Usopp tries to talk to Zoro, but Zoro doesn’t reciprocate—he’d feel bad, but he doesn’t. Not really.

Zoro tries to leave as soon as he’s finished with dinner. He digs through the bowl of keys before he remembers he’d left his bike at Koushirou’s place after the funeral.

He tries not to tense when he feels someone approaching him—tells himself that he’s at the penthouse and no one will hurt him.

“Hello, Zoro. Would you like a ride?”

“For a guy that’s so tall, you sure can be really quiet,” Zoro muses.

Brook laughs.

It’s a high chuckle that makes Zoro realise he hasn’t really heard Brook laugh in a while. “You okay?”

Brook glances at him, brow raised.

Zoro shakes his head. Of course Brook’s not okay; no one really is. Not after Luffy’s been taken and they’re no closer to figuring out where he is or who has him. “Ride’s good,” Zoro says. “Thanks.”

Brook stares at him a little while longer, and Zoro feels like his soul’s being searched.

Which he doesn’t like— _at all._ “You know what? I’ll take a bus.”

“No!” Brook grabs his keys and jacket, shrugging it on quickly. “Let’s go.”

The ride is quiet, save for the soft music coming from the speakers. He can feel Brook’s apprehension coming off him in waves, mouth opening and closing as he tries to bring himself to ask something but unable to.

Zoro would rather answer whatever question Brook has.

“If I may ask you a question, Zoro?”

Zoro grunts his affirmation.

“Are you… well?”

Which is not at all what Zoro was expecting. He’d been anticipating an inquiry on what had happened with the Cook; even Zoro had to admit they no longer had that easy rivalry, it was heavier—colder. But Zoro did what he could to fix that; he’d apologised, and now all he can do is wait. “I guess.”

The car rolls to stop outside the pub where Zoro had told Brook to drop him off—he’ll walk the rest of the way to Koushirou’s place.

Zoro deliberates, feeling like he owes more to Brook, especially since he’s gone out of his way to drive him. “I’m just meeting someone.”

“Ah,” Brook smiles. “Nami told me you had a date.”

Zoro chuckles. He really needs to get her to stop spreading rumours. “No date.” Zoro gets out of the car. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

*** * ***

Zoro isn’t sure Koushirou has been looking after himself.

But neither is Zoro, so he can’t really tell Koushirou off.

The house has gotten dusty, layers piling upon every surface. Even the dining table. “Have you eaten?”

Koushirou stares at him, a smile on his face.

Zoro thinks that means the man isn’t sure what he should say. Which obviously means he hasn’t.

Koushirou has always been thin. But Zoro can’t tell if he’s gotten smaller, or if he’s just been holding himself like that since Kuina passed. “C’mon.” Zoro stands, taking his keys off the counter.

“Where are we going?” He follows Zoro with his eyes.

“To eat.”

“I’ve got food here.”

“You in a mood to cook?”

Koushirou is silent, but he smiles again, eyes closing as he does so. He rises and follows Zoro out of the house. “You know motorbikes are dangerous, Zoro.”

“Only if I drive dangerously.”

“In this city, it doesn’t matter how careful you are.”

*** * ***

Zoro kicks the stand of the motorbike down and steps off. “Hey.”

Koushirou returns the keys to his pocket. “Yes?”

And they stand there for a while because Zoro is still unsure how to proceed. He’s not good with emotions; he’s been trying, but it feels difficult every time. But Koushirou—

Is his _father._ Embarrassment and discomfort be damned.

The man _raised_ him.

So Zoro surges forward and envelopes Koushirou in a hug. He holds him tight, arms digging into the man’s back. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He’s not sure what for, but he feels like Koushirou needs it.

Koushirou doesn’t shake, only pats his back before stepping away. “Get home safe, Zoro.”

Zoro kind of wants to stay the night, actually make sure Koushirou sleeps. But he knows a dismissal and doesn’t want to overreach. “Goodnight, Dad.”

Koushirou squeezes his arm before entering his house.

Zoro waits until the door closes before he leaves.

He’s out in the city when the ground shakes. It starts deep in the earth and rattles the concrete, knocking rocks loose. Zoro brakes and looks around; he’s quite far from the explosion. Attacks are commonplace in a city overrun with gangs and crime.

But any one of them could be Luffy.

So he drives back to where he thinks the blast started.

It’s not Luffy.

But he’d recognise that nightmare-bright red and blue anywhere, even if it’s upside down and adorned with flames.

Zoro drops his bike and rushes towards what’s left of the car. He grits his teeth against the burn of metal on his fingers and pries open the door.

Franky lolls his head towards him, hands reaching.

Zoro leans over, punching the seatbelt.

Franky falls to the roof of the car, no longer suspended. He blinks, disoriented. 

“C’mon,” Zoro grunts.

Franky wraps his fingers around Zoro’s arm and Zoro pulls him out of the car.

He doesn’t stop until they’re far enough away the fire barely highlights their features. “What the Hell was that?” Zoro huffs, falling onto his backside.

Franky doesn’t answer.

Zoro looks over.

The orange glow of the flames only show how pale Franky is. His chest moves slowly, shallowly. Through the minimal lighting, Zoro can make out a darkness creeping onto Franky’s shirt.

_No._

Zoro scrambles towards Franky’s body.

A spray of bullets interrupts him before he can.

Zoro leaps to his feet, taking the knife from his waistband and runs off. He stays near, keeping Franky in his vision.

People come crawling towards Franky, and Zoro rushes forward, stabbing them in the back of the throat before slinking away into the shadows again.

Some are more aggressive.

But Zoro is desperate, fights through the pain to get to them first.

He knocks the guns out of their hands.

They have knives.

They team up.

He turns around in time to deflect a fatal blow to the back of his head, but he steps too late and pain blossoms over his left eye.

He drops nine, maybe eleven, of them, before he waits.

No one else comes.

He rushes towards Franky, breath stuttering in his throat. The knife slips through his bloodied fingers and he feels around for a pulse. It’s there—faint and unsteady. He looks around, eye throbbing as the wound pours out more blood. He tears off the bottom of his shirt to wrap around Franky’s chest.

There’s a car. He can use that to drive back to the penthouse.

But—

He pats down Franky’s pockets and pulls out the phone. Dials the penthouse number.

“Franky, what’s up?”

“Where’s Usopp—how do you hotwire a car?”

Sanji pauses, and Zoro can picture the confusion on his face. “Zoro? Why do you have—?”

“Is Usopp there?” he grounds out. This isn’t Sanji’s fault—he knows that. But the damn Cook is delaying help and Franky is going to—

 _No,_ he won’t.

He _won’t._ Not if Zoro can help it, because dammit, he isn’t going to lose someone else.

Fuck God’s plans and fate and all that shitting bullshit.

“He’s asleep. Just ask Franky—you have his phone.”

“Fucking wake him up.” He has to tell himself to calm down; he has a head wound, a racing heart isn’t helping at all.

Franky gurgles, and Zoro jerks his hand away, realising he’d been pushing too hard on the wound. “Fucking Christ.”

There’s too much blood. It soaks into Franky’s shirt, Zoro’s makeshift bandage, coating the road as it spreads.

And spreads and spreads.

And there’s not a damn thing Zoro can do about it.

All too late, he realises Franky’s chest has stopped moving.

He’s aware of the pounding in his ears, the bile rising in the back of his throat and the doom settling into his stomach, twisting his insides with a vicious tug that makes him want to curl up. But he can’t. Because Franky needs him.

But—

_Franky’s gone. Dead. He doesn’t need anything._

“Get Chopper.”

“I—uh, do you still need Usopp?”

“No—just—get Chopper on the phone.”

“He’s not here.”

Zoro reminds himself to pull in lungfuls of air—he needs to focus. Panicking isn’t going to save Franky.

_Nothing’s going to save Franky._

“Zoro.” Sanji’s voice takes on a surprisingly soft tone and he speaks slowly. “You need to breathe.”

“I fucking know that,” he bites out. And he ends the call. Shaking fingers slide across the phone, leaving slick trails of blood across the screen.

Franky’s blood.

The call operator tells Zoro the ambulance is on its way. He should be grateful—Franky is getting the help he needs.

But he’s also being hand-delivered to the authorities who will take him in.

Zoro waits until the ambulance pulls up in front of them before he lets go of Franky, hops onto his bike and drives away.

*** * ***

Sanji looks like he wants to say something, or yell even.

But Brook shoots him small glances and Sanji turns around, pacing the length of the living room.

Zoro presses a towel onto his eye and Usopp ties one around his right shoulder.

Usopp’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, torn between wanting to ask and letting Zoro speak when he wants to; the struggle is obvious on his face.

Chopper hurries out of the elevator not soon after. “What happened?” He rushes into the kitchen, surveying Zoro. “There’s so much blood.”

“It’s not mine.”

Chopper is patient, nudging Usopp out of the way. “Who’s blood is it?” He lifts the towel from Zoro’s face, nose scrunching before he moves onto the one at his shoulder.

“Franky’s and… I don’t know.”

“What?” Sanji strides into the kitchen. “What do y—?”

“Can you clean the blood from the elevator?” Chopper cuts in. He motions towards Brook. “And see if there’s any in the foyer?”

Brook pulls Sanji away and they leave.

“You’ve got burns,” Chopper says, examining the rest of his body. “Gunshot wounds.” He gestures towards Zoro’s eye. “That, and minor cuts and scrapes. Can you walk?”

Chopper takes Zoro to the medbay, Usopp hovering at the door before it shuts after them.

Once he’s seated in the room, Chopper digs the bullet out of Zoro’s body and patches him up, stitching wounds and bandaging his burns.

“Franky’s in the hospital.”

Chopper pauses in gathering the bloodied cloths before he drops them in a bin and lights a match. “I’ll let the others know.” He sets the contents of the bin on fire before perusing a shelf and taking a small container of pills. “Take this three times a day.” He places it in Zoro’s hand. “And don’t drink while you’re taking it,” he adds, stern.

Zoro grunts, sheepish. “Yeah, sorry.”

Chopper ushers Zoro to bed, relegating him to the cot in the medbay so he can keep tabs on him.

When he wakes the next morning, Chopper gives him a sling for his shoulder.

“I can’t move with this,” Zoro grumbles.

Chopper glowers at him. “You’re not meant to.” He changes the bandages and eyepatch before deciding Zoro’s good to leave. “Let me know if the medication doesn’t work.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Who knows what type of immunity you’ve built against it.”

“Fair enough.”

“Just—get out, eat something and take your meds.”

Zoro shakes the container of pills as he salutes Chopper.

Outside…

It’s hard to describe. Usopp and Nami look at him as he enters, like they’re unsure on what they should do.

He thinks he may have interrupted a conversation about himself.

“There’s food on the counter,” Brook says, coming out of the kitchen.

And Zoro heads there because he doesn’t want to deal with the mess of whatever’s going on in the living room at the moment.

They, however, don’t seem to agree with him, and Nami follows him.

She hovers at the counter, hands clutching a stool in front of her. “Franky still hasn’t woken up,” she says quietly.

Something sticks to the back of Zoro’s throat. He takes a clean plate from the cupboard and fills it with a few pieces of onigiri. “It hasn’t been that long.”

She nods. “They operated on him as soon as they brought him in.”

That’s good, he tells himself.

“Any later and they think he wouldn’t have made it.”

Zoro grits his teeth.

“You saved him, Zoro.”

But he can’t help but think of the policemen who are crawling over the hospital ward, outside Franky’s door, maybe even posting someone inside his room to watch him as he sleeps.

Never safe.

“You did what you had to.” She reaches over and squeezes his arm. “I’ve talked to his old gang; they’ll break him out when he’s recovered.”

“Yeah.” Zoro waits for the inevitable—the _‘what on Earth happened out there?’_ —but Nami doesn’t intrude.

“You got another date today?”

He scoffs a laugh, wincing as it pulls at the muscles near his shoulders. “You gotta stop that.”

“What?” Nami inquires, painting a facade of ignorance.

“Brook thought I had a date.”

Nami snickers, swiping a rice ball before settling onto the seat in front of her. “If you’d just tell me, I wouldn’t have to make up these stories about you.”

“Or you could just… not.”

“Never.”

*** * ***

Zoro’s been sidelined, taken out of commission.

Chopper is adamant he stays in the penthouse to recuperate, claiming he never fully recovered from the time the concussion grenade went off and bruised his organs—which, if he’s being honest, still hurts every time he takes too deep a breath.

So, really, he can’t complain when he’s told to relax.

Except.

While staying indoors is good for him, physically.

Mentally?

It drives him crazy.

He needs to get out, find out whatever information he can about Luffy.

Brook tells him it’s fine; he’s been reaching out to old contacts and asking them to let him know if anything comes up.

Jinbe’s been keeping an eye out and will call as soon as he hears word of Luffy.

Robin says she’s working on it, and that’s all she offers them.

The Cook, who meets a variety of colourful individuals every day at the restaurant, comes back with new information about who _doesn’t_ have him, narrowing their list one gang at a time.

Nami and Usopp roam the streets in Zoro’s stead, but they too come up empty.

It’s like everything’s gone quiet since they took Luffy.

He doesn’t like what that means.

Zoro almost wishes it’s a ransom case because at least then, they’d know Luffy was still alive.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Shit.” Zoro turns, hand halfway to the elevator’s button. “You were supposed to be napping.”

Chopper huffs, eyes narrowed as he strides over to Zoro. “And you’re supposed to stay inside.” He pries the keys from Zoro’s hands and throws them back into the bowl.

“You just—did such a great job of healing me, I feel better already.”

Red creeps up into Chopper’s face and he sticks his tongue out at Zoro. “Stop. Get back in and sit down.”

Zoro obeys, a grin on his lips. “Do you think you could get my weights for me?”

“No. Watch TV or something.”

“Aw, come on. All that’s on are cartoons and stupid talk shows.”

“Then browse the internet.”

“You’re being a terrible nurse.”

“What?”

“Either you want to be praised, or you don’t.”

“I will rip your stitches out.”

“Great. Maybe I can finally move again.”

“You—” Chopper growls. “You’re insufferable.” He holds something out to Zoro.

It’s an Xbox controller. “What are we playing?” He takes it from Chopper, and waits for the kid to set up the console and insert a disc.

“I don’t know. Something peaceful— _Overcooked_ looks fun.”

Needless to say, they’re both quite worked up a few hours later when the restaurant goes up in flames for the eighth time.

And when Usopp and Nami get home and they join in, the stakes only rise and tempers flare higher.

It’s Brook who berates Zoro for moving too much and telling everyone to calm down or switch to another game.

Zoro takes that opportunity to give Brook the controller. While they’re distracted, yelling at each other and pointing vehemently at the screen, Zoro slips out.

*** * ***

“I wasn’t sure I’d see you today.” Koushirou smiles, stepping back to let Zoro in.

“Yeah, well.” Zoro closes the door, toeing off his shoes as he enters. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“I saw what happened on the news.”

Zoro waves his right arm, sling restricting his movement. “It wasn’t too bad.”

Koushirou sits down at the dining table. “Did you know any of them?”

“Just one—he’s still alive.” Zoro glances around the kitchen, taking in the empty table and dish rack. “Have you eaten?”

“I was waiting for you.” Koushirou gestures towards the fridge. “I made some soup this morning.”

Zoro sets the table for the two of them and settles down to eat.

It’s quiet, but not in a bad way. They enjoy each other’s company, and Zoro’s just honestly happy he doesn’t have to be within the walls of the penthouse anymore.

After Koushirou finishes his meal, Zoro ushers him into the living room so he can wash the dishes before joining him on the couch.

The flickering TV and low murmurs from the speakers lull him into a sleep.

He wakes up to his phone ringing. “Usopp?”

“Jesus Christ.” Usopp breathes into the mic. “Where are you?”

“What’s wrong?” Zoro sits up. Koushirou’s sleeping on the couch and the TV’s been turned off.

“Nothing. Where are you? You’re meant to be at home, but you’re—Chopper’s about to have a heart attack.”

“I’m fine.” He keeps his voice low, slowly getting up from the couch. “I’m at Koushirou’s.”

“Oh. Uh, is he—how’s he doing?”

Zoro heads into the kitchen. “He doesn’t really eat.”

“You could bring him here.”

It’s not that the idea doesn’t sit well with him. But Zoro can’t bring himself to merge the two families he has. It’s not safe for Koushirou.

“Only if you’re okay with it,” Usopp chuckles nervously.

“I—maybe one day.” He answers truthfully.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll—uh, let Chopper know you’re not dead.”

“He’ll probably kill me next time he sees me.”

“Chopper wouldn’t do that—he’s too baby.”

Zoro snorts. “Right.”

“Are you staying the night?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Goodnight.” Usopp hangs up before Zoro can reply.

*** * ***

Chopper is very close to giving Zoro a beatdown when he comes through the elevator the next afternoon.

But, unlike Zoro—and basically everyone else in the crew—he has a lot of impulse control, so he only takes Zoro’s arm and leads him into the medbay, grip tighter than necessary.

“I gave you one job,” Chopper seethes, unbandaging the burns.

“I was fine.”

Chopper probably doesn’t believe him; he always said something about Zoro’s pain tolerance being higher than average. Zoro could never tell whether he was joking or not.

“I just… had to go check on someone.”

“You’re not supposed to be driving!” Chopper is close to tears, but he takes a deep breath and works on removing the sling. “You’re taking medication, your depth perception is off, and your shoulder is injured.”

“Right.” Zoro swallows a rising sense of shame and reaches out with his free hand to tousle Chopper’s hair. “Sorry.”

“Your apology means nothing if you’re just going to do it again.”

And that sucks the air out of Zoro’s lungs because wow, holy shit—Chopper is absolutely right. “I’ll get someone to drive me instead.”

Chopper stays silent. It’s only when he’s checked out the eyepatch and finished examining Zoro that he talks again. “How’s your medication?”

“They work.”

“Well, you’re good to go.”

True to his word, Zoro doesn’t drive his motorbike again. He realises, surprisingly, that the people he cares about, care about him too.

And Chopper always did have a heart too big for him, but Zoro doesn’t want to make him needlessly worry again, so he asks Nami to drive him as close to Koushirou’s house that he’s willing to let her see.

Nami is, of course, curious. But she also understands boundaries and privacy, so the questions don’t go any further than a teasing remark.

There’s still no news about Luffy.

They try not to let it get to them, but it’s very obvious that his absence is eating at them. They worry, eyes guarded every time someone brings them an update, too scared of the worst.

Zoro hates that he literally can’t do anything to help out. He’s useless, holed up in the penthouse, fear caving a hole in his chest because it all just reminds him of Franky dying out under him and all Zoro could do was make a phone call.

So he becomes reclusive, staying in his room for the majority of the day, only emerging to eat lunch before retreating to his room and getting rides to Koushirou’s place.

He’s aware of stares burning into his back as he goes, but he’s still listening to Chopper’s orders, so they can’t really complain—or at least Zoro hopes so. He doesn’t really know what he’ll do if someone decides to say something.

There’s a knock on his bedroom door.

He entertains the idea of ignoring them; pretending he isn’t in his room.

But—

Where else would he be?

“I know you’re in there.”

He’s not surprised that it’s Usopp, but he kind of is at the same time. He stands, stopping in front of the door. “What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“I don’t really want to.”

“Good. You can listen to me then.”

Zoro doesn’t have time to answer before the door swings open. He steps back to avoid getting hit in the face. “Jesus fucking Christ—”

“No, shut it—you aren’t talking, remember?”

He’s too astounded to be angry at this point.

Usopp strides in and shuts the door, rounding on Zoro, eyes narrowed. Nostrils flare as he tries to get his breathing under control.

Zoro wants to ask him if he’s okay, but feels like Usopp wouldn’t appreciate it if he said anything.

“You need to stop wallowing.” He paces, fingers twined together as he moves. “Like, I get it. You’re upset, but we all are too. But there’s—” He sighs, stopping in front of Zoro before lightly pushing his shoulders to steer him towards the bed. “Sit down. You standing is making me nervous—I’m gonna forget what I want to say.”

Zoro lets himself be guided.

“Okay, uh.” Usopp clears his throat. He stares at Zoro before he shakes his head and continues to tread on the carpet. “There’s enough absences in this crew, and we don’t need you adding to it.”

“What?”

“I get it, okay?” Usopp strides forward, placing himself right in front of Zoro. “Kuina, Luffy, Franky. Bad things happened to them, and you think the only common factor is you, right?”

Zoro feels like he’s been punched in the gut, words lost even though he wants to deny everything Usopp is saying.

“So now, you’re trying to isolate yourself from us, ’cos you don’t want us to get hurt. But I’m not—we’re not going anywhere, so…” He flails. “Fucking suck it up or some shit.”

And all Zoro can do is stare at the man in front of him, because he’s not sure when Usopp had gotten to know him so well.

It unnerves him; to be opened and read so easily. “Fine,” he croaks, throat tight around his words.

Usopp blinks down at him. “What?”

Zoro shrugs. “You’re right.”

“Oh. Well.” Usopp chuckles nervously. “That threw me for a loop; I was kinda expecting I’d have to fight you more.”

“I can sit and listen to your whole speech if you want.”

Usopp scoffs. “Nah, I’ll save it for the next time you’re being a dick.”

Zoro huffs, pushing at Usopp. “Rude.”

“C’mon.” Usopp catches Zoro’s arm and hauls him to his feet. “Game night’s happening.”

“Wow.” Zoro closes the door as they exit his room. “When’s the last time we did that?”

“Exactly. Now walk faster, you grandpa.” Usopp prods him in the back. “I’m missing my turn.”

Nami and Sanji are on the couch when Zoro enters the living room.

Sanji immediately focuses back onto the screen while Nami smiles at him.

“About time,” she calls. “We’re kicking your ass, Usopp.”

“Hey, that’s no fair!” Usopp launches himself onto the couch, digging the controller out from between the cushions. “Zoro, help me.” He swipes the fourth controller from the coffee table and throws it to Zoro.

Zoro sits on the arm of the sofa, pressing a button to spawn his character. “What’s the goal of the game?”

“To kill.”

“Oh, sweet.”

They play for hours, Usopp and Zoro’s team barely scraping by to count as a win.

“Zoro! What kinda measly stat is that? Fifteen deaths?”

Zoro glances at Usopp. “I’m literally playing with one hand.”

“I can do better than that with one hand.”

“Yeah? Fire up another round—let’s go.”

“Oh, God.” Nami stretches her arms up, letting the controller fall onto her lap. “I’m gonna retire.”

Usopp whines. “Already?”

“I gotta meet up with someone, and apparently, three hours before the ass crack of dawn is the only time they’re willing to meet.” She places the controller on the table and stands. “We’ll play more tomorrow. Definitely tell me who wins though.”

“Who are you betting on?”

“Who says I’m betting on anyone?”

Usopp scoffs.

“Nami, I’m sorry, but…” Sanji shrugs.

“Alright, fine,” Nami relents. “Twenty bucks on Usopp.”

“Only twenty?” Usopp gasps, offended. “Where’s the faith?”

“I know you have the magic fingers, but you’re only using one hand.”

Usopp laughs, gripping onto the back of the couch to stop from falling off.

“That probably didn’t come out the way you wanted it to,” Zoro comments, setting up the rules for the next round.

Nami sighs and risks a glance at Sanji who’s only shaking his head sheepishly, trying to hide the grin that’s rising because Usopp is losing his shit next to him. “Can I cancel my bet?”

“No!” Usopp rights himself, taking deep lungfuls of air. “Wait—wait, no. I can—” He wipes his eyes, giggling. “My magic fingers will do the deed.”

Nami covers her face with her hands. “Jesus Christ.” Her groan is muffled before she pulls her hands away. “Hey, Zoro?”

Zoro turns to her. “Yeah?”

“I’ve changed my bet—kick his ass for me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She squeezes his shoulder before heading down the hallway to the rooms. “Immature bunch of shits,” she mutters.

Usopp waits until she’s out of earshot. “Guess she likes your fingers better,” he says, before descending into cackles again. He falls back onto Sanji, who openly shows his amusement now that Nami’s gone.

Zoro starts the round. “You need to be stopped.”

“Wait, no!” Usopp flounders around. “What are you doing?” He screams as his character dies. “Stop cheating! Sanji, he’s—where’s my controller?”

The Cook chuckles, pushing Usopp off him. “You kicked it on the floor when you were rolling around.”

“Stop. Wait—start again!” Usopp leans down, taking the fallen controller. “Oh, God—I can’t even see; there are tears in my eyes.” He giggles again.

“We’re only playing one round,” Zoro informs him, shooting another rocket launcher. The screen flickers with flames. “If we stop, you forfeit.”

Usopp slaps Zoro’s knee. “Fine, fine.”

“You’re only supposed to be using one hand.”

“Ahh.” Usopp puts his left hand behind his back and leans into the couch. “Okay, I’ve got this.”

To the surprise of no one, Usopp wins.

Zoro glances at the time and realises it’s getting close to dinner. “I’m gonna get going.”

“Do you want me to drive you?” Usopp asks.

Sanji speaks to him for the first time in… a while. “The Hell is your problem?” It feels like the question has been involuntarily pried from his lips, but Sanji makes no move to take it back.

Zoro pushes a forceful breath through his nose, placing the controller on the couch and stands. “What?”

Sanji rises too. “You’re barely here, and when you are, you act like you don’t want to be here. And then you think just one team activity will solve it.”

“Sanji,” Usopp ventures, reaching for his sleeve.

“No.” Sanji rounds on him, pulling his arm away. “This isn’t—he almost died. Franky _did._ You can’t keep taking his side.”

“There are no sides!” Usopp’s voice explodes as he disregards his earlier hesitance, leaping across the back of the couch to stand in front of Sanji. “We’re all on the same team.”

“Tell that to him!” Sanji shoots back, peering over Usopp’s shoulder. _“He’s_ the one who won’t tell anyone anything about where he goes. He sneaks off in the middle of the night, and comes back at who-the-fuck-knows in the morning. Which was fine—then he rang us up at midnight and the next thing we know, Franky’s in the Goddamn hospital!”

Zoro skirts closer to the hallway; as much as he’d like to go to Koushirou’s, there’s no way Usopp will be driving him now, so he’ll just hide until all this blows over. But Sanji catches on quick, stepping around Usopp to block his path.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To my room.”

“Like Hell. You aren’t leaving ’til you tell me what’s up with you.”

“Just leave it alone, Shitty Cook.”

The blond jabs him in the chest and Zoro tries to hide the wince at the pain that climbs through his arm. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t done that great of a job because Sanji’s eye flickers to the sling and eyepatch before he takes a step back. “Why won’t you tell us?”

Zoro scoffs, glancing at Usopp who’s biting his lip, leaning against the couch as he watches them. “It’s none of your business.”

“Bullshit!” Sanji snaps. He makes a move to grab Zoro, but aborts it, shoving his hands in his pockets instead. “It’s our business because it got Franky hurt— _killed.”_

“Hey.” Usopp finally moves, doing his best to plant himself between the two of them. “That’s not—don’t say that.”

Zoro swallows against the dryness of his throat, gritting his teeth.

“You really don’t think he deserves to know why he’s lying in a hospital half-dead?” Sanji’s gaze pierces Zoro, but Zoro elects to look at anywhere but him.

Distinctly, Zoro registers the _ding_ of the elevator. “That had nothing to do with me,” he bites out.

“Yes it does!”

“Hey, hey, wait,” Usopp pushes Sanji back even though he hasn’t moved. “Sanji, stop.”

It’s the smell that grabs Zoro’s attention—tangy.

Metallic.

Chopper steps into the living room.

Covered in blood.

Sanji and Usopp turn, alerted by how much Zoro’s demeanour has changed.

“Shit.” Usopp rushes forward, Sanji and Zoro right behind him. He stops in front of Chopper, eyes darting around wildly. “Jesus Christ—Chopper—what—?” He reaches out a hand.

Zoro catches Usopp’s wrist before he can touch him. “Are you hurt?” he asks.

Chopper turns his head to face him, blinking slowly. His eyes are blank.

He knows he has to be patient—has to let Chopper open up.

But.

It’s taking too long and Zoro’s heart is thundering away under his chest and he doesn’t like how _empty_ Chopper is. “You gotta talk to me,” he presses, keeping his voice light.

Chopper’s throat flexes as he swallows, sliding his gaze to the floor. He takes a small step towards Usopp, only stopping when he bumps into Usopp’s body.

Usopp wraps an arm around Chopper, and when the boy doesn’t react, Zoro lets go of his wrist and Usopp circles the other onto Chopper’s back. He keeps his grip light, still not sure whether he’s injured or not. “I got you,” he mutters, voice shaking.

Chopper’s fingers cling to Usopp’s shirt, nails digging his shoulder.

But Usopp doesn’t complain.

“Clean him up,” Zoro prods.

Usopp pats Chopperʼs back. “How ʼbout we go get you cleaned up, huh?”

Chopper doesn’t speak, doesn’t respond. He keeps his face buried into Usopp’s shoulder and holds on.

“I—” Usopp turns his head to look at Zoro and Sanji, face very clearly asking, _What do I do?_

“Go,” Sanji whispers. “Just stay calm.”

Usopp guides Chopper into the hallway where the bathroom is.

Only when they’re out of view does Zoro dig out his phone.

“Are you…” Sanji swallows, glancing at the device in his hand. “Robin and Brook?”

Zoro can feel the frost in the atmosphere. But he can only focus on one problem at a time, and right now, Chopper takes precedence. “Wake Nami up.”

He expects some sort of retaliation, a _‘Don’t tell me what to do’,_ or something as stupidly childish, but it seems Sanji understands the severity of the situation they’re in because he disappears down the hallway without a word.

Zoro pockets his phone, turning his eyes to the floor. There’s blood on the tiles. He still doesn’t know whose it is. He mops up the blood in the living room. He’s moving into the kitchen when Nami emerges. She looks tired, but she sinks into the couch and waits, face hardened.

Sanji steps into the kitchen, hovering like he doesn’t know what to do.

“Check the elevator.” Zoro throws a new towel at him; he understands the need to do something, to not sit still while your friends are in the middle of a crisis. “And the foyer.”

Sanji merely grunts as he presses the button for the lifts.

Zoro glances over when the doors open—there’s blood smeared on the far corner of the elevator, and a small puddle beneath it.

Sanji only stares at it.

Zoro swallows past a lump in his throat and tries to ignore the questions that threaten to spill to the forefront of his mind—what happened to Chopper? Is that his blood? He takes another towel and approaches, throwing it over Sanji’s shoulder where it lands in the pool. “Take care of the kitchen.”

Sanji shakes his head, rubbing his eyes. “No.” He clears his throat. “I can—”

“Make some tea when you’re done.” He pushes Sanji away from the elevator and the blond goes willingly. “Something calming, I don’t know.”

“Tea’s Brook’s thing,” Sanji protests weakly.

“Okay.” Zoro steps into the elevator, taking the towel from Sanji’s hand. “Then make dinner; it’s seven thirty—Robin and Brook are on their way back, and none of us have eaten since lunch.”

“Fuck.” Sanji scrubs at his face. “Okay.”

Zoro focuses on cleaning and not how much the blood reminds him of Franky bleeding out in the middle of the road.

_It’s his fault. He wasn’t enough—couldn’t do anything to help. Even Sanji knows he’s to blame._

It takes a lot of towels to clean up the elevator and the foyer. He has to make two more trips and a bucket of saltwater before the floor of the elevator isn’t stained.

Chopper’s on the couch, pressed into Nami’s side who’s squeezing him against her by the time Zoro comes back.

Brook is in the kitchen making tea, occasionally helping Sanji with cutting vegetables or passing a bowl or plate.

“Robin’s not back yet?” Zoro asks.

Brook shakes his head. “She’ll be here soon.”

Zoro wishes she was here now—she’d know what to do, how to get Chopper to start talking again.

How to calm everyone down.

Zoro takes the bucket of bloodied towels to the medbay and sets them on fire.

Brook comes in and offers to help wash Zoro’s hand.

Zoro doesn’t really want the help, but he knows it’s impossible to properly clean his hand while the other is in a sling.

It still feels like there’s blood caked under his nails, between the creases of his skin when Brook says he’s done.

The man clamps a clean towel around Zoro’s hand and squeezes. “Are you okay?”

He scoffs, bunching the towel between his fingers. “I don’t—” He sighs. “I’m just tired.”

Brook nods. “That’s understandable.” His voice is soft as he speaks. “You should change your clothes, then come out for dinner. I’ve made tea as well.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Brook.”

When Zoro emerges, Robin and Usopp are in the kitchen. She’s standing, eyes pinned to the wall as though she can see past it into the living room where Chopper has fallen asleep, curled into Nami. Usopp’s arms are sprawled on the counter, head resting in the nook his elbows create. He too has changed his clothes. He peeks his head up when Zoro approaches, face set in anger that Zoro hasn’t seen on Usopp since… ever.

“What?”

Usopp purses his lips. “He spoke to me.”

Robin flicks her gaze to him.

Zoro swallows. “What’d he say?”

Brook slides a cup of tea over the counter to Zoro. It sits, ignored with the other four cups.

Usopp licks his lips, leaning forward to crane his neck into the living room. When he’s satisfied that Chopper is still asleep, he turns back to the others. “All I know is that Wapol killed Hiriluk, and made Chopper watch.”

The air is pulled out of Zoro’s chest, replaced with something dark that tinges his vision with red. His hand has gone white where he fists it by his side. “What?”

“So… all that blood…?” Sanji asks.

“Yeah,” Usopp seethes. “So, we’re gonna kill him, right?”

Robin moves for the elevator, turning back when they try to follow her. “Stay here. Don’t do anything rash.”

“Where are you going?” Brook pushes, stepping in front of her.

“To solve this. _Quietly,”_ she adds when Zoro opens his mouth to speak.

“But he needs to pay,” Usopp growls.

Zoro hums his agreement and Sanji nods.

Robin stares at Brook, and he finally turns around to face them, shoulders slumped. “I don’t think it’s wise if we touch him.”

“Who the fuck cares?” Usopp hisses.

“I understand the need to protect our own.” Brook smiles briefly and Usopp averts his gaze. “But we need to consider the ramifications of what will happen if we do kill Wapol.”

“So, what do we do?”

“Nothing,” Robin cuts in. She reaches behind her to call for the elevator, doors sliding open. “I will handle this. You guys stay put.” She steps in, spinning around to survey them all, reading their expressions before she says, “Look after Chopper.” And the doors close.

Zoro realises she’s right; no matter how angry they are, this isn’t about getting revenge, or making sure Wapol gets his due. What’s important is Chopper.

Usopp runs his fingers through his hair, scratching his head.”We can’t just do nothing.” He spits the words out like they offend him.

“Usopp,” Brook warns.

“I’m just—”

“Do you trust her?” Zoro asks.

Sanji shoots him a glare, eyes narrowed, but Zoro chooses to ignore him.

Usopp reels back, blinking. “Robin? Of course I do.”

Zoro passes him, patting Usopp on the shoulder as he makes his way over to the counter to grab his tea. “Then she’s got this.” He exits to the living room, joining Nami on the couch, careful not to slump too heavily lest he disturbs Chopper.

“What are we doing?” Nami whispers, words biting through her teeth. Her fingers carefully stroke through Chopper’s hair but her eyes are dark as she looks at Zoro.

“We wait for whatever Robin’s got in mind.”

Nami smiles, sinister and sly, reminding Zoro that she’d been living by herself, lying and scheming and getting her hands dirty well before she joined the Strawhats. She leans back onto the couch, reaching out to swipe Zoro’s tea. “Good.”

They all bunk in the living room, sprawled on the couch and floor, leaning against walls and tables.

Zoro is the first watch.

It’s hard not to notice their dwindling numbers when he counts their sleeping bodies and quiet breaths.

Luffy.

Franky.

Robin.

Zoro tells himself that she’s coming back. With a solution—or a plan to a solution.

Robin still hasn’t come back, even when Zoro’s shift is done and he nudges Nami awake so she can take over.

Robin still hasn’t come back, even when Zoro realises he can’t sleep and Nami wakes up the Cook so she can meet her contact, sharp _ding_ of the elevator permeating through the penthouse.

Robin still hasn’t come back, even when Zoro’s eyes are strained but he can’t quiet his mind enough to fall into unconsciousness and Sanji pulls Usopp out of sleep to go to work.

Robin still hasn’t come back, even when Nami does.

“Nothing?” Usopp whispers when she pads into the living room.

“Nothing,” she sighs.

Robin still hasn’t come back, even when Brook stirs and relieves Usopp of his watch.

Robin still hasn’t come back, even when daylight starts to filter through the cracks in their blinds, and Zoro can’t pretend to sleep anymore.

*** * ***

“We need to do something,” Usopp says when they’re eating lunch.

Zoro glances at him out of the corner of his eye, but it’s Brook who speaks. “About what?” he asks slowly.

Usopp waves his fork in the air, jabbing it towards the elevator. “About Wapol.”

“We’re leaving it to Robin.”

“And it’s been a solid—” Usopp turns his head to look at the clock behind him on the wall. “Twelve hours. We haven’t heard from her since she left.”

The sandwich is difficult to swallow and Zoro has to wash it down with some water. “She’s fine,” he grunts.

“We don’t know that.”

“Usopp,” Brook silences him with a fleeting glance. “We must put our faith in each other.”

“I just can’t sit around doing nothing!”

Zoro sighs. “What would you even do?”

Usopp doesn’t say anything, and Zoro hopes that means the conversation has ended.

But it picks up again when Brook clears their plates from the counter.

“Maybe we don’t have to do anything.” Usopp looks up, eyes burning with the beginnings of an idea.

“That’s what we’ve been telling you,” Zoro scoffs.

“No, I mean—we can’t touch Wapol right?” At Zoro’s stare, Usopp powers through. “So we find someone else. With a lot of power, or who just doesn’t care.”

“No one’s dumb enough to kill a president.”

Brook makes an inquisitive noise, a hum, as he sets the sponge down and turns. “I believe our cook knows someone. Or… a few someones.”

“The Cook?” The question is barely out of his mouth before he realises exactly what Usopp and Brook are hinting at. “No.” And he repeats the word again when Usopp starts to speak. “You’re stupid for even considering it.”

“It’s Chopper,” Usopp hisses.

 _“No.”_ Zoro glares at Brook, praying the older man understands why Sanji absolutely cannot go near the Vinsmokes again. “You know what’ll happen if we go to them.”

Brook concedes, head inclined for the briefest of moments before he turns his attention to Usopp. “I must agree with Zoro.”

Usopp has the decency to look ashamed. “Okay, fine, yeah,” he sighs. “My bad.”

“Good,” Zoro says pointedly. “And none of you ever tell him about this dumb plan.” Because knowing Sanji, the damn blond might even consider it.

“What’s for lunch?” Nami calls from back down the hallway. “We’re hungry!”

Usopp clambers into a seat, sliding his phone out of his pocket to pretend he hadn’t just been talking about killing people.

Brook gestures Zoro towards the fridge as he resumes cleaning the dishes, and Zoro opens the door, taking out the plate of pre-made sandwiches Sanji had put together before he went to work. He sets it on the counter just as Nami and Chopper pad into the kitchen.

Chopper climbs onto the seat next to Usopp and they chatter away, Usopp finding mundane things to talk about, keeping the boy distracted.

 _Robin?_ Nami mouths, lifting a sandwich under her nose so Chopper can’t see her.

Zoro shakes his head.

She frowns and takes a bite.

His phone vibrates in his pocket the same time Brook’s chimes. Usopp exclaims, clutching his own device.

Zoro reads the message that’s just come in.

 **From:** Robin  
_Check the news._

“Uh.” Usopp glances up from his phone and watches the others.

Zoro strides into the living room and everyone else clambers in behind him.

Nami swipes the remote, switching the channel until the report comes up.

Plastered on the screen is Wapol’s face, text scrolling along the bottom; _President of Black Drum, Wapol, is arrested after insurmountable evidence points…_

“What the Hell?” Usopp breathes, falling onto the couch.

Chopper slides in next to him, eyes glued to the screen as though he’ll miss something if he blinks.

“What did she do?”

There’s a gasp, a quick inhale of air followed by a choking cry.

Usopp gathers Chopper into his arms and the boy sobs, wailing into his shirt.

Nami perches herself on Chopper’s other side, running her fingers through his hair. “She did it.”

When Sanji comes back, he makes Chopper’s favourite meal for dinner. They don’t complain, even though it’s too sweet for their liking.

It’s late when Robin finally returns. By then, Chopper has already fallen asleep on the couch, head on Nami’s lap.

The others have all taken roost in the living room, sprawled about the space as they converse quietly.

The elevator announces Robin’s arrival. “You’re all still awake,” she comments.

“Well, yeah,” Usopp scoffs. “We have questions for you.”

She giggles and sinks onto the couch next to Nami. 

Nami shifts, leaning her head on the older woman’s shoulder.

“Ask away,” Robin muses.

“I—uh,” Usopp stammers over his words, unsure how to phrase his queries until he just blurts, “How?”

“Everyone knows Wapol deals in crime. They just couldn’t find any evidence.”

“And you could?”

Robin smiles, devilish. “Of course.”

*** * ***

The old doctor’s funeral is in the same cemetery as Kuina’s.

Zoro really shouldn’t be surprised—they live in the same city, where else would he be buried?

But he still feels a heavy weight settling in his gut as he walks through the gates, trailing behind the rest of the crew.

It’s just nerves, he tells himself. He’s only paranoid because they’re all out in the open. He takes solace in the fact that it’s night, that people would only see them if they were looking.

There’s an old woman waiting for them as they approach and Chopper introduces Dr. Kureha to everyone.

The ceremony is… 

Unceremonious.

There’s no crowd.

No speech.

Chopper lays a branch of cherry blossoms on the coffin and they bury Hiriluk.

It’s silent, save for the boy’s sniffles.

Usopp squeezes Zoro’s arm.

Zoro looks at him; he’s staring off at something over Zoro’s shoulder. Zoro follows his gaze and there, in the distance is Koushirou.

He’s standing at Kuina’s gravestone, head bowed.

“I think you should go,” Usopp whispers.

Zoro glances back at Chopper.

“He’s fine—we got him.” He nudges Zoro towards the other grave. “He’d understand.”

Zoro treks over to Koushirou, feeling a stare pin onto his back as he leaves. He’s also pretty sure Usopp is holding the Cook back.

Koushirou is gaunt, skinny frame making the kimono he wears loose. His hair is longer, and his glasses almost droop off his nose.

Zoro swallows a thick breath when Koushirou looks up at him and the moonlight accents the deep shadows on his face.

“You’re here.” Koushirou’s voice cracks like he hasn’t used it in a while.

Zoro realises that without him, Koushirou wouldn’t have used his voice. “Yeah. I’m here.”

They stand in silence, staring at the grave in front of them. “Do you come out here a lot?” Zoro asks.

Koushirou shrugs. “Only when I miss her.”

That doesn’t really answer his question, and Zoro finds he doesn’t want to know how frequently he visits the grave.

He glances over at Koushirou again; tongue sticking to the back of his throat when he tries to articulate what he’s currently feeling—he doesn’t know what it is, he just hates it.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Koushirou says, voice quiet—everything about him is quiet; even his presence.

Zoro huffs. “I didn’t know him. But one of them did, so we’re just…” He shrugs.

“Ah.” Koushirou smiles and it looks tired and strained. “That’s very kind.”

“Have you been sleeping?” The question slips out before he can stop it and he discovers he both wants and doesn’t want to know the answer.

Koushirou seems to pick up on his apprehension and stays silent.

His chest hurts—a small twisting ache that threatens to reach up and suffocate him. “Fuck.” He steps forward, pulling Koushirou into a tight hug, arm pressing into sharp bones. “Don’t do this,” he begs. “I can’t…” _Not you too._

But he doesn’t know how to say that, so he just holds on.

Koushirou places a hand on Zoro’s back, returning the embrace. “I’m sorry,” he breathes.

And all Zoro can do is strengthen his grip because Koushirou is the last person who should be apologising. For anything. It should be him; Zoro hasn’t been able to check up on him every day.

Hell.

He’d even walked away that first day when Koushirou had told him about Kuina’s death.

He’d been so utterly selfish, so self-absorbed.

When they pull away, the smile Koushirou wears is brighter—more firm. “Your friends seem confused by your actions.”

Zoro snorts, chancing a glance behind him. They all focus back on the doctor’s ceremony. “Do you want to meet them?”

Koushirou shakes his head. “Not today; it seems you all need to spend some time together.” At Zoro’s hesitance, Koushirou reaches out to squeeze his arm. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

They step slowly as they head out of the cemetery.

Koushirou stands at the door, hand on the roof of his vehicle before he rounds to the trunk. “I’ve got something I want to give you.” He opens the boot and pulls out a katana sheathed in white.

Zoro blinks, eyes stuck to the weapon. “That…” He looks up at Koushirou’s face.

“She’d want you to have it.” He closes the trunk and approaches Zoro. “Take it.”

He wraps his hand around the sheath. “Thank you.”

Koushirou smiles, patting Zoro on the arm. “I know you’ll take good care of it.”

He doesn’t think he will, but he damn well will try. “Hey.”

Koushirou pauses. “Yes?”

“You should open a dojo.”

He raises an eyebrow.

Zoro shrugs. “Teach people and stuff.” He lifts the sword in explanation. “It… You helped me.”

“I’ll think about it.” He smiles again, more genuine this time, before he gets in his car and drives away.

Zoro waits until Koushirou is no smaller than a speck down the road before he turns back to his crew. He pauses before he reaches them, feet stalling when he’s in front of Kuina’s grave. The katana is heavy in his hand; he should leave it here with her.

His grip tightens around the hilt.

“Here.”

He jerks back, eyes shooting up to find Sanji.

The blond bends down, placing a small branch of cherry blossoms onto Kuina’s grave. “I’m sorry,” he says when he straightens back up.

And Zoro knows it’s more than a condolence.

They’re silent, and he’s about to head back to the crew when Sanji speaks again. “You know, when my—” he sighs. “When the Vinsmokes came, and I didn’t tell anyone, I thought… I thought I was doing the best thing for everyone. But, it’s because I didn’t say anything that I know it’s better to.”

Zoro grunts. “Yeah.”

“Usopp talk to you emotions and sharing yet?” There’s a lightness to Sanji’s voice, one that Zoro hasn’t heard directed at him in a while.

He scoffs. “Just told me to stop wallowing and be present.”

And Sanji actually has the audacity to snicker. “Well. He told me to share things—to stop acting like I’m alone because…” He shrugs. “We’re not.”

Zoro swallows, fingers loosening around the katana. “Got it.”

*** * ***

“No, you don’t get me!” Usopp shrieks, leaning across the table. “I’m not saying we need a uniform—I just think we need to coordinate our outfits.”

“That sounds a lot like a uniform,” Nami states.

“No—like, just one item of clothing that’s the same colour. It doesn’t even have to be a shirt, or whatever. It could be, like…” Usopp flails, looking around the living room. “A hat!”

“But what colour?”

“Red, obviously.”

Sanji chuckles. “People are gonna think we’re part of the Red Hair gang.”

“They’re in another city!” Usopp whines. “Chopper!”

“I don’t know,” Chopper giggles. “I don’t really like red.”

“You don’t have to wear it all the time! Just when we heist.”

Chopper huffs. “I don’t go out for those.”

“There—problem solved!”

“Your idea sucks.”

Usopp gasps, hand slapping his chest. “How dare you?”

Zoro snickers. “Not so baby, is he?”

Nami chuckles as Chopper turns around, face red.

“Who said I’m baby?”

Zoro points at Usopp, whose eyes widen.

“I’m not—take it back.”

“But you are though!” Usopp protests.

“I know forty-three different ways to kill a person.”

“Jesus fuck,” Sanji mutters his breath.

“But you wouldn’t do that to me, would you?” Usopp squeaks.

“I might.”

“Robin!” Usopp leaps over the back of the couch. “Chopper wants to kill me!”

“Don’t be too messy, dear!” Robin calls back from the kitchen.

“Holy fucking—Brook!”

Brook chooses to remain silent.

“This is how I die,” Usopp moans. “Betrayed by my friends.”

“Oh, calm down,” Nami chastises, a grin splitting his lips. “A little pain never hurt anyone.”

Usopp sinks back onto the couch, flopping his body over Nami and Sanji. “I haven’t even updated my will yet.”

“I know someone who can do it quite quickly,” Brook says, coming out of the kitchen. “Cheap, too.”

Usopp groans. “You guys are the worst.”

Nami pats his head sympathetically. “What’d you leave me?”

“What?”

“In your will—what do I get?”

Usopp splutters, sitting up. “Nothing! Why would I give you anything?”

“Aw, c’mon. I’m, like, your best friend.”

“Not anymore.”

“What about me?” Chopper pipes up, scooting across the floor to get closer.

“Uh-uh.” Usopp shakes his head. “Don’t.”

Chopper pouts, curling into himself as he hugs his knees. “But—I thought we were friends.”

Usopp growls. “Stop, you heathen! This is entrapment!”

“I… That’s not what that means,” Sanji says.

“This is a trap, is it not?”

“Well, yeah. But—”

“Entrapment!” Usopp points at Chopper who breaks his facade to giggle.

The elevator _ding_ s.

Zoro leaps to his feet, dashing into the kitchen.

Robin is at the counter, keeping it between her and the entrance. She looks at Zoro; a question.

He shakes his head.

The doors open.

It’s Jinbe.

“Oh, good. You’re all—” Jinbe pauses as he enters the penthouse. “I can see the mistake I’ve made,” he says as he takes in the tense faces and offensive postures in front of him. “I would have called ahead, but… Franky’s not here.”

Zoro swallows a lump that forms in the back of his throat.

Robin rounds the counter and the others spill into the kitchen when they realise there’s no threat.

“What are you doing here, Jinbe?” Robin asks.

“We found Luffy.”

It’s like the air is sucked out of the room and everyone takes one large, gulping inhale and batters Jinbe with questions at the same time.

“We don’t have time for this,” Jinbe injects, voice thundering over the tiles. “Wapol’s arrest meant we had to investigate the warehouses he had here. We found Luffy in one of them, surrounded by Mister Zero’s men.”

“Luffy’s been arrested?” Chopper whispers.

“Yes. But, he’s being taken to another facility tonight.”

“What time?” Zoro manages to bite out.

“In two hours.” Jinbe looks at all of them. “We’ll be taking back roads and smaller streets to stay out of sight, but you guys need to cut us off before we get to Impel Down, otherwise, he’s gone forever.”

“Conference room,” Nami orders.

They’re quick, rushing into the space as Nami heads to the whiteboard and considers the map. “What route are you taking?”

Jinbe draws a complicated line throughout the map. “There’ll be three vehicles, and more on hand if anything goes wrong.”

Usopp clambers over the table to consult the paper. “You’re going past the water tower, right? What if I stay there and snipe the driver?”

Jinbe looks at him. “I’m the driver.”

“Oh, shit.”

“I thought you weren’t on active field duty?” Brook asks.

Jinbe shakes his head. “They’re not sure who to trust, so they’re sending everyone out—I still don’t know what they think of me.”

The plan takes half an hour to finalise.

Usopp exits the room in a hurry and returns with a case and a duffel bag. He opens the case. “I’ve upgraded the comms; channels so we’re not all talking over the top of each other anymore. And made some more as well, so everyone gets one—even you, Jinbe. And Chopper.”

“And what’s in the bag?” Nami squints at the offending item.

“Red stuff.”

“You were serious about the colour thing?”

“Well, yeah! This is going to be the biggest jailbreak ever—we need to look good, like a united front.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Zoro growls.

“Then stop arguing and wear it. Here.” Usopp digs through the bag and throws a red bandana at Zoro.

Nami gets a red belt, Sanji a tie, Chopper a pair of shorts, Robin a red cowboy hat, Brook a feather boa, and Jinbe a hair tie.

Usopp himself, has a red jacket.

“Way to be obnoxious,” Sanji comments. He fixes the new tie around his neck.

“You gotta admit, we look cool!” Usopp gushes.

“We really don’t need these,” Robin chastises, but she’s already donning the hat, looping the string under her chin to keep it from falling.

“Speak for yourself.” Brook drapes the scarf over his shoulders. “I love this.”

“We’ll already be painted red with the blood of our enemies.”

Usopp blinks, once.

Twice.

“Okay, well—that’s enough out of Robin for today.”

*** * ***

The four of them stand in the middle of the road, spread an arm’s width apart. Humid night air sticks to their skin. The streets are empty.

Jinbe starts whistling in their comms.

Usopp crouches, opening the sniper case by his feet and assembling the weapon. “If someone looked out their windows right now, I bet you they think we look bomb.”

Sanji snorts. “I bet you they’ll call the police.”

“They probably already have,” Usopp moans. “I can’t go to prison.”

“No one’s going to prison,” Zoro says.

The first car crests over the dip in the road.

Usopp takes a deep breath.

A van comes into view.

Then another car.

Usopp fires two successive shots.

The first and third cars swerve out of control as their windshields are pierced.

Jinbe’s van rolls to a halt.

Usopp fires three more shots, killing all the passengers.

Zoro and Brook press forward. They stop on either side of the van, drawing their swords and pointing it at the places Jinbe had told them before.

“On one,” Usopp directs. “Three, two, one.”

They plunge their weapons through the metal, feeling it squish through flesh on the other side.

Zoro pulls his blade out, screeching against the surface of the car and caked in blood. He wipes it against his pant leg and sheathes his sword.

Brook opens the back of the van.

And there’s Luffy—tired, rustled, bloodied and bruised. He smiles when moonlight spills into the van and he recognises the faces of his crew members. “You guys are here!” He clambers out, hands behind his back. His position makes it difficult, but he finally touches his feet down on the concrete.

Brook offers the straw hat to him. “I believe this is yours, Captain.”

Luffy laughs.

Zoro feels lighter than he has in weeks.

“I can’t grab it,” Luffy says, shaking his hands. Metal clinks as he does so, handcuffs glinting under the light.

“Jinbe, you have keys for the cuffs?” Zoro asks.

“Yeah,” Jinbe answers. “I made a copy earlier.”

“Great, I’ll come to you.”

Zoro doesn’t really want to leave Luffy, to let him out of his sight again. But Luffy’s safe—the crew is here, and he wouldn’t be going far. He rounds the police van to the front, taking the key from Jinbe before making his way back. He moves Luffy closer to a lamplight so he can see better and unlocks the cuffs, letting it drop to the ground.

Luffy shakes out his hands, fingers rubbing his wrists before he throws his fists in the air. “Thanks, Zoro!” And he runs off, taking his hat back from Brook.

Zoro smiles, pressing the button on his comms to cycle through the channels. “We got him.”

Nami breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay, I’m coming in to land.”

Distantly, there’s the thudding of helicopter blades slicing the air.

“Get out!” Chopper yells, frantic. “Nami, Robin—jump!”

Nami curses.

Rustles sound over the microphone.

Zoro looks up; the helicopter is slowly coming into view. Something drops out of the side and a second later, another dot joins it.

Wind whistles through the speakers as Nami and Robin plummet.

Their parachutes open, billowing out as they drift away from the vehicle.

The helicopter explodes, lighting the sky and pluming with smoke. Shrapnel rains down.

“Oh, God,” Brook breathes.

“Whoa!” Luffy exclaims, eyes wide.

“What happened?” Zoro asks.

“The cops are onto you,” Chopper relays. “You need to get out of there.”

 _“They_ did that?” Jinbe asks.

Zoro runs to the driver’s side of the van, hand on the door to keep it from opening. “Stay inside.”

Jinbe frowns, warring with himself. “Take me hostage,” he says after a pause.

“What?”

“Your helicopter’s gone, the cops are on their way. This is the only way you’ll be able to get out in time.”

“Let’s do it!” Luffy has situated himself next to Zoro, looking at the both of them. “Jinbe can get us out of here.”

Zoro switches channels on his earpiece and passes on the plan to Usopp and Sanji.

They haul the corpses out of the van and pile into the back. Brook sits in the passenger seat with Jinbe, a gun in hand.

“Nami, Robin. You two okay?” Sanji asks.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Nami pants. “We’re hiding in the mall’s parking lot.”

“Alright, we’re on our way.”

The van peels down the road.

Luffy leans forward. “Do I get comms?”

Usopp scoffs. “No—you’re banned forever, remember?”

“No fair.” Luffy pouts. “I just wanna talk to everyone.”

Usopp shoots a glare at Zoro as soon as he starts moving. “Do not!”

Zoro grins, taking out his earpiece. “Here, Captain.”

“Ah!” Luffy catches the device.

“Oh no,” Usopp moans. “Nami’s gonna kill me.”

Sanji chuckles, patting his shoulder sympathetically. “I’ll write your eulogy for you.”

“Remember me fondly,” Usopp sniffles.

“Everyone!” Luffy yells into mic. His voice echoes around the van, bouncing off the metallic walls and vibrating the vehicle with his joy.

From Usopp’s earpiece, Zoro can hear a very faint Nami shouting back.

“Let’s go home!” Luffy raises a fist in the air for emphasis, punching the roof of the van.

“That was…” Usopp chuckles lightly. “Hey, Luffy. Come here for a sec?”

Luffy hops across to the other bench and squishes himself next to Usopp. “Yeah?”

Usopp reaches out, snagging Luffy around the shoulders to bring him into a hug.

Luffy laughs, shifting to better return the embrace. “I missed you too, Usopp!”

“Ah, you guys hear that?” Usopp grins, tilting his head to face the others in the van. “He missed me only.”

Luffy twists away from the hug. “I missed everyone!” 

“But me most, right?”

“Stop putting words in his mouth,” Zoro says.

“You’re just jealous,” Usopp teases, poking out his tongue like a three-year-old.

“I will cut that off if you stick it at me again.”

“Oh, damn,” Usopp breathes, “he mad mad.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sanji groans. “Your tendency to meme is gonna get you killed one day, and I’m just gonna watch you die.”

Usopp brightens, turning to face Sanji. “Ooh, put that in my eulogy—‘tendency to meme.’ Sounds fancy as shit when you say it like that.”

“Hey, guys?” Luffy pipes up. “I missed you all.”

Zoro is pretty sure he can hear Brook bawling from the front of the van.

Usopp tightens his hold around Luffy.

A quick exhalation escapes Luffy, involuntary.

“What?” Usopp lets go.

“Nothing.” Luffy winces, hand coming up to cradle his side. “It just hurts.”

Zoro leaves his seat, crouching in front of Luffy. He grips the edge of the bench for balance when the van turns. “Where?” Although he’s pretty sure he can guess. He presses Luffy’s shoulder into the wall of the van, careful to avoid the sharp edges where he’d pierced his sword earlier. “Breathe in for me.”

Luffy obeys with difficulty, breath shaky and face drawn in a tight scowl as he does so.

“Pretty sure your ribs are broken,” Zoro says, brows furrowed.

“That would make sense,” Luffy muses. “It’s been hurting since I got hit there.” He pauses, and Zoro knows he’s listening to Chopper over the comms. “I don’t know—when did they grab me?”

“Your ribs have been broken for that long?” Sanji asks.

Zoro bites the side of his cheek. “Just—we’ll get you to Chopper soon.”

Luffy smiles down at him. “I’m okay!”

The van stops suddenly, flinging Zoro onto his side. The momentum causes Luffy to slide off the bench, joining Zoro on the ground.

“Luffy!” Usopp yells, sliding over the bench to get closer to his captain.

“Less okay,” Luffy groans, pushing himself off the floor, other hand pressed against his ribs.

Zoro sits up, reaching behind him to knock his fist on the wall of the van. “Watch your driving.”

“I’m sorry!” Jinbe calls back. “Everyone okay?”

The door opens and Nami climbs in. “Do I want to know what happened?” she asks, entering the van to stand over Luffy. She holds out a hand, which he takes, pulling himself to his feet. “You good?”

“Yep!” He smiles at her, silently communicating something before she lets go and sits down. Luffy bounces to the entrance, greeting Robin and helping her into the van.

“Captain.”

Luffy chuckles, closing the doors and plunging them into darkness. He takes the seat closest to the exit, opposite Sanji.

Zoro returns to the bench, next to Usopp.

The van starts up again and they move. Sirens wail outside, blue and red lights flashing through the small holes on either side of the van.

It doesn’t take long until Jinbe outmaneuvers the cops, turning down side streets and hiding underground. When he resurfaces for the sixth time, the air around them is still.

He takes it slow.

The other vehicle does not.

It crashes into them from the right, flipping their van onto its side.

Inside, there’s a mess of yells and panicked screams as they’re thrown off their seats, hitting the walls and each other.

Zoro’s ears ring with the impact of the collision. The back of his head throbs, his neck sore with a sharp pain.

He blinks to get his bearings, waving his arm out to grab hold of something solid to pull himself up.

The van is crumpled, space in the interior smaller now that the walls are caved in.

There’s someone on his arm—it’s the same arm he’d removed the sling from before this mission started, and _holy fuck_ is it straining.

Light trickles in through the cracks of the door, frame buckled and distorted.

He needs to get out, get the others out. Check on Jinbe and Brook.

But, first.

“Luffy?” Zoro yells, because his captain's ribs surely can't be feeling great after being pinballed around.

“’M fine! How’s everyone else?” Luffy calls, coughing.

There’s a rally of affirmatives, and Zoro can only assume that Brook and Jinbe are fine too, seeing as no one has panicked yet.

“I think we got T-boned,” Usopp is saying. “Fuck, Chopper—who hit us?”

Zoro tears his arm out from under the weight and sits up, dragging himself towards the exit. He turns, planting his feet on the door and stomps.

“That’s not gonna work,” Sanji groans, sitting up. There’s blood flowing from a cut on his cheek. “Doors only open from the outside.”

The doors swing out.

“And there it goes.”

It’s hard to see given that the person is illuminated from behind by a streetlamp, but Zoro doesn’t recognise the silhouette.

The cocking of their gun echoes in the van. “Don’t move,” the man orders, aiming his gun at Sanji who’d been about to get up.

Zoro slowly inches his hand behind himself, trying to feel for Kuina’s sword.

The gun swivels onto him. “I said—”

“Hey!” The shout comes from outside, familiar voice bouncing on the exterior of the van and thundering onto the floor.

Zoro grins as the silhouette looks away.

“Back off!” the man yells.

“In the wise words of my friends, _‘Yeet!’”_ Something is thrown towards the man and rolls onto the road.

Zoro has a second to recognise it as a mine before he lunges forward for the door.

The explosion vibrates the van, pushing the door closed the rest of the way.

Zoro is thrown onto his back, once again hitting his head. “Fucking Franky,” he groans, rolling onto his side.

The door opens again and there he is, dressed in a horrid red Hawaiian shirt and blue shorts that somehow matches his hair.

He’s bigger—if that’s at all possible.

“Hey, guys,” Franky greets. “Luffy—you're here too!” He holds out a hand for their captain, and Luffy takes it, letting himself be hauled to his feet. Franky places him down outside the van.

“Franky! You look different!”

“Are you trying to kill us?” Zoro growls, sitting up.

Franky pulls Zoro out, and Zoro can’t help but notice how hard his skin feels—almost like it isn’t skin at all. “I saved you guys, didn’t I?”

“You almost blew us up!” Usopp yells, running out of the van. He freezes in front of Franky, taking in his stature. “What happened to you?”

“I got a super upgrade!” Franky throws his fists in the air as he poses. “About eighty percent of my body is prosthetics.”

“Holy shit.”

“Wow!” Luffy gushes.

“Stop posing and help us!” Nami shouts.

They get everyone out of the van, including Brook and Jinbe in the front seats.

“So, who was this guy?” Sanji asks, gesturing towards the smear of blood on the ground.

“Cops.”

Zoro looks at the truck that damaged them; nothing about it screams police. But the logo on the side—he knows it from somewhere.

“Wapol’s.” Robin peeks into the crumpled front seats where the driver is lifeless, head cracked on the windshield. “These are Wapol’s men; that truck belongs to one of the warehouses under his name.”

Jinbe is studying the cop on the floor, digging through his pockets for ID. “He was Wapol’s as well.”

“You’re okay,” Robin says, moving to the back of the truck. “He doesn’t know where we live.”

“No one knows where we live.” Nami’s faint voice carries through the evening air as she presses outwards, finding a new vehicle for them.

Zoro heads back to the van, retrieving his sword.

“—should stay,” Luffy finishes, staring up at Jinbe as he sits, leaning against the underside of the flipped van.

Jinbe swallows. “I—Captain…”

“An order’s an order.” Luffy’s face is set in a determined frown. “You’re staying here. We took you hostage, got hit and left you here.”

“It’s smart,” Zoro says. “The van’s too damaged so we don’t need you as our driver anymore.”

“Fine,” Jinbe relents, scrubbing at his face. “You’ll need to lay low before someone sees you.”

“Too late,” Usopp mutters, reaching out to grab his arm.

Zoro glances over—there’s a car barrelling towards them at full speed. He pushes Jinbe back behind the van, out of sight.

Usopp pulls Luffy to his feet. “Run!”

“Go underground!” Luffy yells.

Sanji leads them to a station and they jump the barriers, knocking people out of the way. They leap down stairs until they reach a platform with a train that’s about to depart.

It’s empty, only a few stragglers in the carriage at this time of night. Most seem too exhausted to pay attention to the ragtag group who have boarded the train, panting and covered with grime, cuts, bruises and blood.

“Damn, that was crazy,” Usopp moans, collapsing into a chair.

“It’s not over yet,” Franky declares, turning to face the other end of the carriage.

“Yeah, I know; we need to get out of here first, but—”

“No—someone followed us.”

“What?”

The man enters the carriage, door slamming shut behind him. He advances towards them.

Franky ushers everyone behind him as he stands in the aisle, blocking the path with his large body. He raises a hand, palm out. “Stop right there.”

Zoro has the hilt of the sword between his fingers, ready to pounce over the seats and attack if things go wrong. On the other side of the aisle, Brook is posed the same.

The man pulls out a submachine gun from within his jacket.

“Get down!” Franky yells.

Zoro hits the deck, and the carriage vibrates as something explodes, rattling the windows and shocking the other passengers.

They scream, heads cowering into their hands as they sink to the floor.

“That was… more than I thought it’d be,” Franky says sheepishly.

They stand up, and Franky turns around, hand gone from his wrist; instead, there’s a barrel poking from the end of his arm.

“What was that?” Sanji asks.

“I’ve put weapons into certain parts of my body,” Franky explains, a wide smile on his face. He waves the weaponised arm. “This is a miniature bazooka.”

“That’s so cool!” Luffy clambers forwards, leaping over the seats to attach himself onto Franky’s back, staring at his arm. “What else do you have?”

“Well,” Franky screws his hand back on. “I’ve got a—”

“We don’t have time for this!” Nami yells, shattering the emergency brake glass and pulling on the handle.

The train squeals to a stop and those not seated flail to grab onto something before they lose their balance.

“We need to get out of here—you can’t keep exploding things when we’re meant to be hiding. Now break the window and let’s go.”

*** * ***

It’s early the next morning—almost dawn—before they rid themselves of the police and Wapol’s men who are hunting for them. It helps that Jinbe is feeding them misinformation on his crew’s whereabouts, and both Franky and Robin call people they know to bribe their way out.

But the air is brisk and the sun is breaking through the clouds when the Strawhats crowd into the elevator.

“Dibs first shower,” Usopp murmurs, leaning his head against the elevator wall.

Sanji elbows him in the ribs. “Let the ladies go first, you scoundrel.”

“First of all, it’s heathen.” Usopp slaps at Sanji. “Second of all, they should’ve said something if they wanted to.”

“How ’bout this?” Nami suggests. “I’m gonna go first, and if you disagree, I will kill you.”

“Fine, fine.”

Everyone is aware of the glaring obvious; that they all have their own floors, equipped with their own bathrooms. But no one wants to be alone—away from Luffy.

The lifts open and they spill out into the kitchen.

Chopper rushes in, glad to see them, but knowing he must tend to Luffy as a patient before he can greet him as a friend. They head into the medbay.

Zoro crashes onto his bed and sleeps.

Unfortunately, Chopper wakes him up after a few hours to patch him up.

“You could’ve done this tomorrow,” Zoro grumbles, voice rough.

Chopper scowls at him. “Do not.”

Zoro wakes again in the afternoon and showers, changing into some fresh clothes that are loose so they don’t scrape his bandages.

The kitchen is noisy and it’s a wonder Zoro only woke up now.

“Zoro, tell Luffy it’s a bad idea!” Usopp yells, craning his neck back to look at him.

Zoro grins, entering the kitchen to grab a plate from the cupboard. “I agree with the captain.”

“No!”

Luffy laughs, throwing his fist in the air, fork clutched tightly in his hand. “Another heist!”

“Wait, what?” While he likes heists, this is far too soon; it’s not the best idea to be out on the streets, committing crimes while they’re still highly wanted.

“This is what happens when you’re a suck-up!” Usopp crows, leaning over the counter to jab a finger at Zoro. “You should’ve listened to me—it’s me who you should suck up!”

“Fucking Christ,” Nami breathes, covering her mouth with her hands as she laughs, leaning her head onto Robin’s shoulder who only giggles lightly.

Usopp squeaks, face heating up in embarrassment.

“No dirty talk at the table,” Brook scolds, a faint smile on his lips.

“It’s super disgusting,” Franky admonishes.

“Ah!” Chopper screams, hands pressed against his ears. “I don’t want to hear this!” He turns to Sanji. “Make it stop!”

The Cook only chuckles, reaching out to ruffle Chopper’s hair.

“No—I didn’t mean like that,” Usopp moans, elbows crashing onto the counter as he buries his head into his arms. “Why does this always happen to me?”

“Because you’re a fucking disaster.” Zoro takes the last seat at the table and starts to eat.

“We’re still heisting, right?” Luffy asks, barrelling through the noise to address Zoro.

Zoro frowns. “I don’t think it’s smart.”

Nami snorts. “Now that’s a sentence I thought I’d never hear you say.”

Zoro turns to her. “Can you… shut up?”

“Hey!” Sanji stands up. “Don’t be rude to her.”

Zoro rolls his eyes. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“I’m gonna kick your ass out the window.”

“Can I at least eat first? I’m starving.”

Sanji fumes and it honestly looks like his brain is stuttering. “I—fuck you. Hurry up.”

“It’s not a terrible last meal,” Usopp muses. “Pancakes.”

“No! Zoro can’t die!” Luffy shouts. “We still need to heist!”

“We’re not heisting!”

“But Zoro said he would.”

“And Zoro realised he was a dumb idiot who made a mistake.”

Zoro kicks Usopp’s chair from under him and he flails, knocking into Brook who spills syrup onto his jacket.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Usopp gasps.

Brook stares at the stain for two seconds before he sighs. “This would be when I would instigate a food fight, but I fear Sanji would have an aneurysm if we destroyed his kitchen any further.”

Sanji breathes in relief, resting his face in his hands, elbows atop the counter. “Oh, thank God.” He straightens up after a second. “If you’re done, please get out.”

Usopp, Franky, Nami, and Chopper leave for the living room, starting a game on the Xbox.

“So we’re not going to heist?” Luffy is morose, slumping in his chair as he munches on his current mouthful.

“If I may,” Robin interjects, placing her teacup down. “I have a proposition.” She glances at her phone before she tightens her jaw and continues. “An idea for a job.”

Luffy’s eyes widen, leaning forward. “What?”

Even Zoro admits he’s intrigued; Robin helps with planning, but she’s never introduced one before.

“We take down the FBI.”

“I’m sorry?” Brook blinks. “Did I mishear?”

“I don’t think so,” Sanji murmurs.

Robin sucks in a slow breath. “I’m an informant for the FBI—sent to infiltrate the Strawhat Crew and find evidence to put you all in prison.” She looks at Luffy as she speaks and Zoro feels his chest tighten. “But.” A soft smile pulls at her lips. “I’ve since changed my mind.”

Luffy chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “Everyone!” he yells. “To the conference room—it’s heist time!”

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](https://kimunkur.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Also, also !! Check out this [cool art](https://generaldevi.tumblr.com/post/619629708913573888/phew-title-i-believe-this-is-yours-captain) created by the very skilled [generaldevi](https://generaldevi.tumblr.com/) who was my partner for this big bang.


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